Resident Evil: Isolation!
by DavrosVonJammell
Summary: Reporter Bruce Campbell is heading for a warzone when his copter is taken down. Now he is in his very own war, and he is fighting it. Along with a young student, Bruce must escape the city, and survive the creatures and psychos living within it...
1. Indigo City

**Chapter 1: Indigo City**

Her heart pumped. Her legs sprinted. Her forehead beaded with sweat. She knew her chances were slim next to nothing, but she did it. It was too late for the others, but not for her. Not yet.  
Misty Walker kept running, hoping that the creatures would not get her. She did not want to join her father, not now. Not by those creatures.  
It had been terrible since the week before. A week ago, the whole city had been laughing and joking, celebrating the 100th Anniversary of Indigo City. She had been wearing her favourite blue jeans, yellow half tee, red trainers and red wrist band for luck. Then the screams echoed down the street. She remembered seeing one of the doctors for Umbrella Hospital limp towards them, sweating and covered in blood. He had grabbed the Mayor, Barry Wilkins, and screamed _they_ were coming. Before anyone could have found out who _they_ were, their question was answered. A group of men and women lumbered clumsily towards them. At first, it seemed to Misty that some of the drunks broke in, but that idea was gone as the 'drunks' started piling on people and biting them.  
Tom Arzt, her Chemistry lecturer in college, had saved her from the crowd as she got separated from her father and brother. Arzt had led her away from the crowd, down an alley towards a gun shop. Along the way, he explained things about Umbrella that she never would have guessed. She hadn't believed him at first, but when she saw how ruthlessly he pulled out his handgun and shot the grey skinned man's head she decided to believe, for her sake.  
The two had hid for three days inside a corner shop, eating and whispering among them, blocking out the shrieks and moans still echoing outside. On the third day, Arzt had handed her his handgun and fourteen bullets for backup. She had been confused as to why, until he rolled up his sleeve and revealed a fresh bite wound in his wrist. He wanted her to kill him, but she couldn't do it. The conversation rushed to her head, haunting her.  
"I can't do it," she had wept.  
"Do it! You must, for both our sakes!" he had snapped.  
"I need your help, Arzt."  
"Not like this. I will only be a liability and a danger to you. Just shoot me."  
"No!" she had started crying, wishing the madness would stop.  
Arzt had sat next to her, his hand on her shoulder. "Please," he had whispered soothingly. "This is my only chance to die with my concionce intact. I will be dangerous otherwise, and I saved you to make sure you would live."  
"There must be another way," she had sniffed, and he smiled grimly at her.  
"There isn't," he suddenly shook his head. "Wait, there is another way." She had looked into his eyes, and there had been great pain inside them. "You have to get out of here. I want you to run to another area. You can take the basement way out of here. Grab supplies, keep the gun and go!"  
"What about you?"  
"Forget about me, I'll be fine. I just need time to myself."  
She had stood up and as she approached the basement, he had called one last thing.  
"Misty, just shoot them in the head."  
She had left him there, along with her fear. She still had fear, but it had been replaced by anger: angry at Umbrella, angry at Arzt and angry at herself.  
Her mind focused back onto her situation, and she heard the shrills of the beasts chasing her. She begged they would lose her, perhaps find one of those zombies and eat them instead of her.  
Another flashback came to her, and she was remembering meeting her father and brother after she left Arzt. She had called their names, but only had the reply of hungry moans from them. The stench of the city had made her vomit, and the moans had brought back the fear. Then the memory of Arzt had awakened her anger, and hesitantly she shot both her brother and her father. She had felt like crying rivers, but she had had no time. She had fled for days, sleeping in small rooms safe from the zombies.  
The creature behind her shrieked once more, and she felt the air behind her violently brush her. It was behind her. One more leap, and it would be upon her.  
Suddenly, she saw a door leading to the old warehouse. Deciding her chances, she sped for it, feeling the shadow of the creature on her back, sweat beading on her head.  
She was there, almost there-  
- She flew through the air and collided with the door. The damned creature had used its claw to trip her up. She felt anger build inside, and reached for her handgun. Blood trickled down her head, and feeling it she winced as she touched a small cut on her brow.  
Fear came back, and before the creature could make its move, she flung open the door and leapt in, slamming it shut as she entered.  
She sighed. She was safe... for now.


	2. Hell Introduced

Bruce Campbell awoke from his nightmare. The nightmares had been the same since the incident. The nightmares had been with him since he was eight, and now, twenty one years after, they still haunted him. He had prayed for the nightmares to end, but they would not cease.  
Deciding to try and forget about it, he looked out the window of the helicopter. The view was beautiful; green fields and lush forests surrounding the landscape. There were one or two roads, but they were hardly noticable among the beauty of the nature surrounding it. If it wasn't for the urgency of the report of the current war in Iran, he would have asked to stop here and breathe in the beauty of the untouched area.  
"Enjoying the view?"  
He turned his head towards his pilot, Amber. She was an expert pilot, and had flown reporters for ten years. She was thirty three years old, but looked as though she was twenty three. Her face was smooth, her hair blond and down to her shoulders. She was built like a supermodel, with eyes which sparkled in the sunlight. She smiled at him, showing him a perfect white grin.  
"It is perfect down there," Bruce replied, still awed by the scene of wonderful beauty.  
Amber sighed. "Pity we can't stop, eh?"  
Bruce nodded. That was a fact, but he couldn't stop when he had a job to do.  
"We will stop here after this job has been taken care of," he sighed, wishing he could just stay down there for eternity.  
At those words, the two sat in silence for an hour, thinking. Bruce felt like sitting in the co-pilot seat, but he had no clue what he might do. He was a good reporter, but he knew that he could be accident prone at times. Last thing he needed to do was hit a button or switch which could cause them to crash.  
"Hey, Bruce," Amber suddenly called. "Look in front. It is that city that Baker went to investigate two days ago about that riot. You know? Indigo City?"  
Bruce shot his head straight towards the window. The city below them was dark, and the only light areas were houses ablaze. The city stunk of death, even from the height he was at. He could see some of the rioters, wandering aimlessly. They were like ants from his height, but he could work out who was the rioter and who was the law enforcement. He had a bird's eye view of a battle between three officers and over fifty rioters. Further ahead, the rioters were attacking a big building which looked like the Town Hall.  
"Should we stop and see how Baker is?" Amber asked concerned. Baker and Amber had been friends for years, and Bruce knew she was worried for him. He had seemed pretty confident about it, but now it seemed that his chances were low.  
"I'm sorry, Amber. We have a job to do," Bruce spoke reluctantly. "Baker will be fine. After all, he has reported other riots before. His last one on Raccoon City had been the same, except from his odd obsession with zombies and monsters."  
"Please," Amber sighed. "Don't. He had a rough time, okay? The rioters ate his crew for God's sake. Wouldn't you feel like that? I mean, cannibals aren't exactly something you can easily accept."  
Bruce raised his eyebrow. "And zombies are?"  
Amber's face went red with rage, and she glared at Bruce, making him wish he had not said anything. "Look, just leave him alone!" She snapped. "He had a rough time there, and you people don't help him by mocking his scary obsession with zombies!"  
Before Bruce could react, the copter shook violently. He pushed his face against the window again, and stared in horror at the creature hanging onto the copter. The creature was a pulp of flesh, a mottled brown colour. It had no actual head, but a skull-like face in between its shoulders. It had two feet like a human, but it was the arms which captivated him. One was small and withered, but the other wasas thick as a tree trunk, and as long as one. The hand on that arm itself looked able to cover a grown man's torso.  
He leapt back from the glass, and stared at Amber. She was trying to look at the hijacker, but couldn't see it. She didn't need to, for as soon as she lifted her head to concentrate on their flight path, the thing was in front of her, smashing the glass and grabbing her face. Amber struggled to escape her attacker's grasp, but the attempt was futile. As quick as lightning, the beast smashed his hand, with her face, into the door.  
The crunch of her skull and the river of blood told Bruce that not only was she dead, but he had to get out of the copter. If this creature didn't kill him immediately, the copter's crash would. Grabbing the parachute, Bruce slipped it on and kicked open the door. The creature did not notice him, as it toyed with Amber's headless corpse. Before Bruce could vomit at the sight, he leapt from the copter, feeling the air rush around him, gravity pulling him faster to the ground.  
The nightmares rushed back to him, the memories branding him with guilt and fear. Now along with the memories was Amber's face, and her muffled gasps struggling against the monster which had grasped her entire head and crushed it like an insect.  
What the hell was that? he thought as he pulled the string on the parachute, the chute activated.  
From falling, he was was gliding to the roof of an old warehouse. The roof was empty, but was covered in blood. He knew that creature had some bad purpose, and wasn't just some ugly pet dog with an elastic arm.  
As the thoughts rushed through his mind, he heard a hungry moan below him. Glancing at the roof, his eyes widened and he restrained himself from bursting into tears. On the roof was a man covered in blood. The man was quite chunky, and reached out towards Bruce. His skin was shredded and grey, and his hair was blond and greasy. He wore an Amani suit, but it didn't help him with his appearance.  
Bruce didn't want to admit it, but Baker was right. This must have been the reason Baker chose the job. He knew something about these...  
Go on, say it. These zombies, he thought to himself.  
He knew about these zombies and how a certain powerful Corporation was involved. He forgot which one, as he had blanked out Baker's rants about it.  
Right now, it didn't matter if Bill Gates or Stephen Hawkings was responsible, he had to find a way to not get killed by this thing. He searched the ground around him as he descended to land, praying to find a weapon. A glint caught his eye, and he laughed happily as he saw a metal pipe on the ground.  
Finally, his feet hit the floor of the roof, and without hesitation untangled himself from the parachute and sped for the pipe. Picking it up, he turned to look at the zombie in front of him, and noticed a door behind it. Smiling, he rushed himself towards the zombified man and smashed his chest with the pipe. The zombie hit the floor quickly, but didn't cry in pain or react. Instead, it stumbled back onto its feet and shuffled towards him again.  
Screw this!  
He fled for the door, not looking back, and wriggled the handle. Locked. Desperately, Bruce kicked the door. It didn't budge.  
"Hey! Anyone in there?" he screamed, realising he had just made a stupid move. If zombies were in there, they knew he was up here. Cursing himself and the city, he turned towards the zombie and remembered what Baker had said.  
'The only way I was able to kill those foul beings was shooting them in the head with a revolver I found.'  
Kicking himself mentally for his foolishness, Bruce approached the zombie and, with all his strength, brought the pipe down on the zombie's cranium. The zombie's head caved in on itself, spraying Bruce's shirt with blood and skull segments.  
"Great," he sighed. "I have stained my shirt!"  
At that, the door opened. He shot around on the spot, pipe raised-  
-When the person at the other end pointed her pistol at him.  
Bruce sighed. Things were just getting better and better for him.

David Splaise stood up from his meditation. He felt at peace now. He brushed down his black robes, and looked upon the statue of the Goddess of Sacrifice, Heiadross.  
She had deemed him worthy, helped him and those of his followers survive the man-made Apocalypse. Those fools at Umbrella were not meant to create such beings, such mockeries of life, and Heiadross had seen to it they received that message.  
Since the outbreak had began in the city, he had been blessed by Heiadross to survive and act for Her. He and his Disciples were meant to live, to grow stronger as the creatures ravaged and mutilated the city. Those fools who had refused to die under the creatures' claws were taken to the Appraisal Chamber to be offered to Heiadross. So far, they only had seven people. He needed nine to please Her Holiness.  
His remaining men were the Chosen, but they were merely the shields for his role. Heiadross had been most pleased with him, and now he had his reward, and his mission. He was the new Purger.  
Ever since he had received the sign from Her, he had known that his duty was to be the Sixth Purger. Such a role was an honour.  
"My Lord," spoke a voice. It was Aneirin, his right hand man. Heiadross had also blessed Aneirin to be the Purger's Guard Captain. It was his duty to ensure the loyalty of the others and success of the mission, in case yet again the Purger would fall.  
"Yes?" he replied, gazing in respect at the beautiful statue of Heiadross, her sword pointed down at him.  
"It seems more life has come to our fallen city. The creatures have cleansed their unholy transport. It seems that one was deemed worthy to enter alive."  
Splaise turned around, looking at Aneirin. The man was six years younger than him, with long brown hair, a short beard, dark eyes and wearing brown robes. "Find this survivor," he replied patiently, though feeling anger inside. He had failed to keep alert, as Heiadross tested him. She had thrown in this person to test him, to see if he can capture them. She was helping him gather more sacrifices.  
"Do you want us to execute this person, My Lord?" Aneirin asked, head bowed in front of Heiadross. Splaise smiled inside, glad to have Heiadross choose the right man.  
"No. I want you to take them to the Appraisal Chamber, and find someone else. We need nine to complete the ritual."  
Aneirin nodded without reluctance and left the Testing Chamber, leaving Splaise alone once again.  
"Thank you," David smiled, and looked upon Heiadross' exquisite face, feeling everything go according to plan.


	3. Dark Places

Watching the cameras from inside her security room, Dr Alyssa Monique smiled at the progress of the Bandersnatches. Despite what most said, they were a wonderful creation, more competent than those damned Hunters everyone talked about. After all, she was one of its main creators. It was a danger to mankind, and had extreme power, but the other fools that had been around had loved the Hunters, preferring to watch them in action than her wonderful ideas.  
It didn't matter now, they were all dead, she had seen to it. It had been easy to kill off Dr Yoko and Dr Sullio, but Frost had been a thorn in her side to eliminate. She had released the remaining twelve Bandersnatches from their glass cages to take care of Yoko and Sullio, but Frost had been resourceful. He had been clever on how to avoid them and actually kill two with a handgun and a fire axe.  
She remembered how furious she was at him, and how much she hated him for killing her creations with such arrogance. He hadn't appreciated her work, killing it as though it was one of those stupid Hunters. However, she had felt better when she had left the room to get some food when the injured Frost had stumbled out, his arm soaked in blood. The wound had been from a Bandersnatch, judging from how the arm was also bent, as though gripped tightly. She remembered how she had laughed at his beggings for help, and how his eyes widened with shock as she had pulled the trigger on him three times, a smile of glee spreading across her face.  
The sound of an explosion from one of the monitors caught her attention. On the screen, the wall had been obliterated, now replaced with a burning helicopter. The part that shocked her was the Bandersnatch that left completely unharmed, carrying a corpse out of it. She laughed aloud as she saw her creation toy with the headless corpse, wondering how it got into the copter in the first place.  
"Tree trunk elasticated arm, how else?" she chuckled to herself, and stopped, feeling embarrassed at talking to herself.  
Ever since the incident, she had entertained herself with using the scientists in the building as test subjects against all their creations. There were about five scientists left alive in the building, not including herself. There was Dr Hursh, who was hiding in his lab, a caged Hunter only metres away; all she had to do was activate the cage from here, and he would be dead. There was Dr Waller and Dr Stello, the two doctors pulling back their long hair and talking about getting a make-over after this. Outside their lab door were three zombies, pounding desperately to get in. Both doctors had been rude to her, claiming they were both better looking and better thinkers than she was, and had always mocked her work. The truth was, both were lies. She was the better minded, and a whole lot better looking. Without hesitation, she disabled the doors and watched as the three hungry virus carriers stumbled in, the two doctors screaming and crying. In a matter of minutes, Dr Waller was devoured, while Stello fled the room, running for the elevator.  
Alyssa coughed with laughter. The elevator was disabled, and only mere inches away was another Bandersnatch. Stello was dead, no matter what happened. Finally, the foolish Dr Stello reached the elevator, rapidly pushing the button and cursing under her breath. Alyssa couldn't help herself, she had to speak to her from that level.  
Using the tannoy for that floor, she leaned in close to the speaker.  
"Sorry, Stello, but the elevator is shut down for security reasons."  
Stello looked around, her face going pale. "Alyssa? Thank God. Let me out of here. Waller is dead!"  
"I know," she replied, making a point of showing she did not care. "She was expendable, as are you. You are my test subjects, and so far you are doing really well. You have had me in stitches for quite a while."  
"You bitch!!!" Stello spat. "I'm going to get you for this! Just wait! I'll get to that security room and rip you a new bellybutton!"  
"Now now, language please," she sighed, feeling bored of the empty threats. "I am afraid you won't be getting far, as a little 'friend' of mine is very close to you right now, and will actually give you the new bellybutton. Have a nice day!"  
At that, she turned off the tannoy, and watched with glee as the Bandersnatch turned the corner and dived on top of Stello, smashing through her chest with its powerful arm. Stello screamed at first, but soon drowned from the blood pumping from her mouth.  
"Now three researchers left," she yawned.  
She looked at the furthest left camera, and grinned as the sight of Dr Oldring, her mentor, came limping into view. He was alive, but not well. She had liked him, but she was ready to watch him die, even though he was the only one who had genuinely appreciated her Bandersnatch. Remembering this, she decided to lockdown all cages and ensure he lives until he met a released Bandersnatch.  
The final doctor alive was Dr Bakunin, a Russian researcher who was an extreme cruel man. He had done well, as he had set off detonators to take care of some of the caged Hunters. He had disliked the Hunters, and had hated the Bandersnatch. The only thing he had liked was his creation: the Tyrant.  
She couldn't blame him for his choice; the Tyrant was a deadly creature. It made her Bandersnatch look like a child's pet. However, he had not been a likeable man, and it seemed only fitting to have him killed by the creature he mostly hated: the T-Virus crow. Ironically, he was near the atrium, and she could easily just push the button and it would be over. His chances against fifty crows were low, apart from the fact he was armed with a shotgun. For a researcher, he was quite good at being a survivor, unlike the others who had either hid themselves in rooms or were injured already.  
Bakunin was real entertainment, and Alyssa decided that the atrium would be a nice test for him. Feeling bored, she casually pressed the atrium door release, and watched as Bakunin turned to see a black cloud of feathery death swoop down upon him. Shots were fired, but they were drowned by the screams of Bakunin. From the shadow of crows, blood trickled lightly across the floor.  
"Dr Bakunin," she muttered. "You disappoint me."  
Laughing, she turned her head and watched the limping Dr Oldring rest on the floor, his gun placed on his chest. He was tired.  
"Sleep, my old mentor," she grinned. "You have a busy day ahead of you."

"Who are you?"  
Bruce couldn't believe it. He had just escaped a monster in his copter, killed a zombie to save himself and now he had a teenage girl pointing a gun at him.  
The girl had blue eyes which shone with life, and light brown hair down to her shoulders. Her face was smooth and gentle, her skin slightly pale. Her clothes were ripped in places, but apart from that, she looked fine. She was shorter than him, around five foot nine. She held a 9mm Beretta handgun, a weapon that Baker had brought back from Raccoon City and gave to Amber.  
The thought of Amber turned his stomach. She had died, and so quickly. The beast that had killed her had been a nightmare, and now he was wondering how to kill it, in case it appeared now and this girl decided to lock him out.  
"I said who are you?" the girl ordered again. "If you do not answer, I will leave you up here."  
Bruce blinked. "The name is Bruce Campbell. I am a reporter for 'The Big Apple News'. I accidentally crashed here when my pilot-" He swallowed. "When my pilot was killed by something." Suddenly, he remembered Baker. "By chance, have you seen a reporter around? He goes by the name of Baker. He was reporting the riots here."  
The girl lowered her weapon. "No, I haven't. I haven't seen many people since I left Arzt."  
Bruce relaxed, realising the girl wasn't going to shoot. She had only been afraid, and he couldn't blame her. "Arzt?"  
"The man who saved me," she replied, defeated by guilt. "He told me to leave him when he got bitten. Since then, I have been alone."  
Bruce felt pity for the girl, but didn't decide to show it. Last thing he needed was to insult her with meaningless sympathy. "But what about the police? I have seen them fighting those zombies."  
She raised her eyebrows in confusion. "Today?"  
Bruce nodded.  
"No," she muttered. "Even if that is true, they have no chances. If the creatures don't get them, the Purger will."  
Bruce slowly approached her, being careful not to provoke her to shoot at him. "The Purger?"  
She shook her head, and holstered the handgun in her back jeans pocket. "He is a man of religious entity. Arzt told me that he and his followers had been catching people for sacrificing to his goddess. I have only seen him once, and it wasn't much of a glance."  
Worriedly, Bruce put his hand on her shoulder, and removed it when she froze uncomfortably. "What does he look like?"  
She shook her head. "I don't know. He wears a hood which hides his face. He dresses in a black robe, and he carries a long silver sword. When I saw him from behind the wall I hid behind, he beheaded someone who had been deemed 'unworthy' to live."  
Bruce looked into her eyes. She was afraid, and most probably felt lonely without a friend. "Look, I can help you, ah-"  
"I'm sorry," she said, an embarrassed smile crawl across her face. "I'm Misty Walker."  
Bruce smiled. "Okay, Misty. I can help you, but I need your help too. If we are going to survive, we need to work together. I need to find my friend, Baker. Can you help me?"  
She looked at him back, her eyes watering slightly, and she nodded. "Okay." She looked at his hand and smiled. "First though, you need a weapon. You can't go around fighting with a pipe."  
Bruce chuckled. "Well, I did before, so why shouldn't I-"  
A thud from behind stopped him, and he felt sweat trickle down his head. It couldn't be!  
Turning around, he stared in shock and fear at the same creature that had killed Amber. However, this one was slightly shorter, and its withered arm had been torn off by the look of things.  
"Run!" Misty cried, and that was all he needed to hear as he ran to the door and slammed it shut as Misty got in.  
"How many of those damned things are there? Are they multiplying like jack rabbits out there or something?"  
Misty looked at him in shock. "You've met one before?"  
"On the copter," he gasped. "It killed my pilot."  
"Okay," she panted, leaning against the door. "It is safe downstairs. The area is clear of zombies and those things, and has some weapons down there. Also, if you are hungry of thirsty, there are some vending machines down there."  
Bruce sighed, and looked down the staircase.  
"So it begins," he breathed.


	4. Onto the Mission

The shatter of glass surprised David Splaise, but he did not show it. He ensured that the only emotion he would show his men was his devotion to his cause, and so far he was doing that successfully.  
After he had prayed yet again to Heiadross, he had decided to lead two of his Disciples to find the surviving person who had escaped the Umbrella creature. The two he had chosen were Seph and Alexis, two highly devoted men willing to die for the cause.  
Judging by the obstacles Heiadross is testing me with, some may have to, he thought to himself, his face hardening at the sight.  
Before him and his two followers was an alley of fire. The fire was around them, creating a designated path leading straight through a group of the undead and two of the arm creatures Umbrella so 'kindly' created. The obstacles weren't going to be easy, but he swore he would get past. He unsheathed the Blood Blade that the previous Purgers used, and readied himself. Behind him, he heard Seph and Alexis equip their blades, which were made from pure silver, tainted to smite evil which would stand in their way.  
Together, the three moved down the path ceremoniously, not breaking a sweat about the creatures, as trained. A few steps down the path, and the undead finally caught their sense. The moans of uncontrollable hunger rang through Splaise's ears, but he did not flinch.  
He watched calmly as eight undead men and women approached him and his followers, their arms out to grab at them, saliva dripping from their blood soaked mouths. They got close, and that was when he sprung into action.  
With Heiadross' will on his side, he slain the creatures with his men, bringing his blade down onto each of the creatures' heads. One by one, Splaise and the other two sent the undead fiends back to the fires of their eternal evil.  
He was about to move on, when he heard a whisper from Heiadross in the wind. It was telling him to go back, and send his Guard Captain instead. This path wasn't his, and that is why he was blocked by the Umbrella minions.  
"The winds of Heiadross tell me this is not my path," he spoke calmly. "This is the path of the Guard Captain." He looked upon the two other men, who were curious as to what was going to happen. "I will summon him to you, and he will lead you on. Good luck on your path."  
At that, he left the two, who bowed their heads in respect as he left.

The warehouse was full of open crates, each one containing a vending machine or stack of medical supplies. It had been more fortunate, as there was also a small wooden crate near the back containing twelve handgun bullets and a shotgun with four shells. Things were looking better, but not perfect.  
Bruce had many options, but choosing one was the difficult one. He could stay here with the girl, eat and live here until help arrived, but he doubted that would work. Another option was leave the girl here and look for an escape and return for her when he knew it was safe, but he didn't like his chances alone. His other option was take the girl and find a way out, but he would be continuously watching her to keep her safe, and he couldn't leave without finding Baker. He owed Amber that much.  
"So, what do we do?" Misty asked, and Bruce finally decided.  
He turned towards her, picking up the shotgun at the same time. "We have basic objectives here. We find Baker, and some way to get out of this city. I have only been here for half an hour, and I am already sick of this place."  
Misty looked offended for a second, and he was worried he hit a wrong button with her. However, he was relieved as she nodded her head. She was strong, he had to give her that.  
"To think," he sighed. "I was supposed to be reporting the war in Iran."  
Misty shrugged. "Well, you are in a sort of war."  
"Yes, but I have to fight in this one," he replied negatively.  
She smiled in response, but it was a grim smile. It didn't matter to him, he was happy to have an ally to help him.  
"So," he began. "Where to start? Where would you say most people would hide?"  
Misty rubbed the back of her head with her left hand. "Well, when it first started, the Mayor and a few people fled into the police precinct. I saw a few media reporters run in there also. Perhaps your pal is in there."  
Bruce nodded. It was worth a shot. "Good idea. Do you know where that is?"  
Suddenly, she pulled a nervous smile on her face. "Well, that is the difficult part. We have to go out there, run down Well Street, pass the Umbrella hospital and go down an alleyway to get there quickly. Otherwise, we run straight past Town Hall, and I don't like our chances that way."  
Bruce nodded, but was weeping inside. Why did this happen to him? Why did they have to fly over this pit of hell? He wanted to just throw a fit of rage.  
But there was Misty to think about. She did well surviving, but for how long would it last? If he threw a fit, she might lose hope and decide to wait for help which isn't coming.  
"Okay, let us head off then," he said, attempting enthusiasm.  
Aiming his shotgun at the door, he booted it open and jumped out, ready to face what was out there.

It had been about an hour since Dr Oldring slept that Hursh had died. Alyssa had been disappointed with his demise. The fool had been doing so well, staying inside his lab and muttering ideas on how to escape. However, the tables had turned as Hursh went crazy. Whether it had been due to the fear of dying or the endless screeches from the Hunter that did it, she did not know. All she knew was that he went crazy and opened the cage, wanting death. It had been finished in minutes as he had opened the cage, the Hunter leaping at him and tearing him into ribbons. The crazed bastard hadn't even screamed. All he had done was made a shocked moan and died in silence.  
The Hunters were no fun. They just killed their prey brutally. The Bandersnatch was better to her, more majestic, more entertaining. It didn't just kill, it toyed with its prey, and the death of Stello had proven that.  
She glanced at the screen she had last seen Stello, the corpse now being chewed by-  
"God no!"  
Four of them. Those hell beasts shouldn't have been in the hospital. They hadn't been before, and now all of asudden four just appeared. She felt her pulse speed with fear. She could handle going out there against Hunters, zombies and Bandersnatches, but these...  
She cursed, and slammed her hand on the desk. She hated the Cerberus. The damned dog creatures were her fear factor. These things were fast, and team workers.  
Another new movement appeared on the camera next to it, and she blinked in shock at what she saw. She remembered the giant spiders being a plan, but they had only created two because the big suits of Umbrella decided to scrap the idea. Seeing what they had done to Dr Alkun, she couldn't see where the words 'useless' or 'waste of good money' came from. The two arachnid giants had tangled him up, along with a few zombies and a Hunter. Anything that could defeat a Hunter was well worth the money.  
She turned to face the other camera where Dr Oldring was waking up. The old man picked up his weapon and pointed it around him. Finally deciding it was safe, he lifted himself to his feet and limped to the door ahead of him, which was where the four Cerberus were dwelling.  
"No," she cursed. "He is to die under a Bandersnatch!"  
Quickly, she locked down the door, and smiled with relief as he struggled to open it, and gave up, hobbling to the next door, leading to an empty corridor.  
"Which leads straight to a Bandersnatch," she grinned.  
This time, Dr Oldring was going to get the chance to admire the Bandersnatch as it crushed his skull under its hand. Waiting patiently, Alyssa watched with glee as he moved towards the first door down the corridor, about to meet her proudest creation face to face. He opened the door, and without hesitation he-  
Bambambambam!  
Alyssa's jaw dropped in shock as the Bandersnatch fell to its knees dead, and Dr Oldring standing over it triumphantly, smiling to himself.  
Her blood boiled with rage. How dare he survive the Bandersnatch. How dare he kill her creation. How dare he survive.  
She grabbed her handgun and was about to go down and finish him off, when she realised something. If he died now, she would have no more test subjects. That fool Hursh had ensured that, and now Oldring was her only entertainment.  
Thinking it over, Alyssa sighed. She needed to lure someone into the hospital. But how?  
A movement on other cameras caught her attention, and she smiled once again. On one camera was the Purger's men, wandering around and killing again. On another camera, one outside of the hospital, were two people armed with guns; a man and a teenage girl. Both teams were approaching the hospital, and all she needed to do was watch as the Purger's man chased the two inside and follow them in. It was perfect!  
As she watched the camera, she laughed with pleasure, and prepared herself.  
"Let the games begin!"


	5. Paths Collide

The journey had been quieter than expected, and Misty was starting to wonder if the police had actually handled the situation. She doubted it, but she felt slightly better with that thought.  
So far, they had only ran into four zombies and a slimy, fleshy zombie dog that had pounced at the end of the alley, and Bruce's shotgun handled that situation.  
The ammo situation wasn't good. Bruce only had three shells left, and she had ten bullets left. Before they had left, Bruce had ordered her to grab the bag he found, and fill it full of food, water and medical supplies. She had done that easily, but she still felt awkward about having very little ammo.  
Bruce paused, and for a moment Misty felt a chill go down her spine. What had he heard? What had he seen? His head shot up, and after doing that he readied his shotgun.  
"What is it?" she asked him, shaking slightly from fear.  
"We are being followed," he breathed quietly. He pointed the shotgun in the air. "On the roof. I think it is that thing we saw earlier."  
Misty gasped, her fear of the creature stopping her from running. This was getting worse, she could feel it. She pulled out her handgun ready, but knew better. This thing seemed quite immune to handgun bullets. It wasn't like those zombies.  
"I can see the hospital," he continued. "If we run, we can make it to the precinct. What do you think?"  
"I think you are insane," she whispered harshly. There was no chance of outrunning that thing. It was up there, and it could easily pounce upon them.  
"Are we near the precinct?" he asked, his manner calm, which annoyed her.  
"Quite close," she whispered.  
"Good, because we go now," he hissed, and suddenly the two were running, and she could feel the pursuer following, its eyes targeted on her. She felt her heart pumping hard, aching inside her. She wanted to rest, to give up, to get rid of the bag on her back, but she didn't. She just ran.  
She skidded to a halt at the hospital entrance, as did Bruce. The arm creature was not anywhere, instead replaced by a new threat.  
Three men in black robes carrying scimitars. Two had their hoods up, hiding their features, but the third did not. He had his hood down, revealing his long brown hair and short beard. The man had a scar on his left eye, and his skin was a ghostly pale. The man observed them, as did his men. It wasn't the Purger, but it was one of his men, no doubts on it.  
"Is that the-" Bruce began.  
"No," Misty cut off. "His men."  
The hoodless man pointed his blade at them. "There they are, men," he ordered sternly. "They are needed alive to complete the ritual, but you are allowed to incapacitate them."  
Not needing to hear anymore, she opened the door to the hospital and dragged Bruce in. The two sprinted down the hospital corridor, and heard from behind the doors swing open and the snapped orders of the man at his men.

Alyssa cackled with delight. It was going terrifically. Thanks to the Bandersnatch on the roof, they ran into the men of the Purger, and now she had five flies in her web. She looked at the camera, noticing Oldring wandering around, still alive. He leant against the wall, his gun pointed in front of him.  
"This will be interesting," she grinned. "I wonder how old Oldring here will react to meeting the others, and how are they all going to get along? Will they work together, or will they work alone, trusting no one?"  
Feeling the happiest she had ever been, she locked down the main entrance. Nobody was leaving just yet. There was so much fun to have first. She looked at the camera with pleasure as the man and girl fled down the corridor, the cultists hot on their heels.  
"Let's make things interesting," she whispered, and opened the elevator with the push of the button.  
Seeing this happen, the man pointed and ordered the girl to go in. As she entered, Alyssa made her move. Pressing another button, she closed the elevator door, blocking the man from the girl. She heard the girl call his name in terror. Bruce? She thought that name died ages ago. Bruce tried to pry the elevator open with his hands, calling her name. Misty? Well, this got more interesting.  
Bruce saw the cultists finally, and tapped the door, promising to get her back. Alyssa laughed. He would be lucky to come out alive, let alone find the girl. He fled for the nearest door, which was to the staircase leading to the staff living quarters on the 5th floor. The cultists still followed, their swords raised.  
Bruce dived for a door at the end of the staircase, and swung it open. He fled down the empty corridor, readying the shotgun in his hand. He was approaching the area Dr Oldring was in.  
"This is going to be good."  
Seeing the cultists catching up, Alyssa locked the door between Bruce and the three robed warriors. The men banged the steel door with their swords, determined to get to Bruce.  
"Time to begin their tests," she smiled, and pressed the tannoy button to all floors. "Well, well, well! What have I caught in my web? Some test subjects." She saw the stunned looks on their faces, and the horrified look creeping across Oldring's face. Priceless. "Well, the test is simple. You must survive. I have separated you all for a good purpose: to weed out the weak and see who is the better species." Most were quiet, apart from Bruce.  
"Where is Misty? Tell me now, you bitch!" he screamed angrily at her.  
"Such language," she tutted. "She is being sent to the 8th floor: the armory. She will be able to access the weapons, but you had better hope she is good at surviving: there are more than zombies there!" She couldn't help laugh as Bruce kicked the wall nearest to him. In the other camera, the girl, Misty, checked her gun, her face full of fear. She wasn't responding to her fate. "Well, let the games begin!"  
At that, she pulled her finger off the tannoy button and relaxed in her seat, ready to watch the fun.

Bruce cursed the woman on the tannoy, and wished he would see her. He wanted to wrap his hands around her neck and squeeze. She was going to get them all killed, just for her own sick entertainment. He worried about Misty, how she was and what had happened to her. He wondered if she survived, and was currently hiding in a room from the zombies and monsters.  
"Only one way to find out," a voice echoed at him.  
He turned around in fear, aiming the shotgun in the direction he faced and saw-  
A man. An old man wearing a labcoat. The man had white hair, and was clean cut. His face had very little wrinkles, and looked good for his age. He had a scarred leg, which was bleeding slightly. He held a handgun out, pointing it at Bruce.  
"Who are you?" Bruce asked harshly.  
The old man lowered his weapon. "So you aren't a zombie," he sighed with relief. "The name is Dr Kurt Oldring. And you are?"  
"Bruce," he replied, observing the man curiously. "What did you mean, 'only one way to find out'?"  
"I was just curious to see if you were a zombie," he said calmly. "Believe me, I am glad you aren't. I only have three bullets left in this thing."  
Bruce lowered his gun. The man did not pose a threat, and was perhaps one of the victims in this also. However, he was cautious: if Umbrella was responsible for this, it was obvious this man was one of their scientists.  
"How did this happen?"  
Oldring shrugged, and relaxed his shoulders. "I don't know what happened exactly. All I know is that some idiot, most probably Alyssa, released these creatures to test them out. I have heard many screams, and I have had to put down many good men and women. It is a shame."  
"Alyssa? Is she the one who was on the tannoy?"  
The old scientist nodded.  
"How do I get to her?" he snarled.  
Oldring raised an eyebrow. "Well, you have to get to the 10th floor. We are on the 5th. We have to go up the stairs to the 7th, since the 6th is quite bad. From there, we can climb the emergency ladder to the 8th due to a fire raging around that floor, and climb the stairs to the 10th. Why, do you plan revenge?"  
"I just want my friend back," Bruce replied stubbornly.  
"I see," Oldring nodded. "We had better stick together. This place is dangerous. There is no telling what is still moving around here."  
At that, the window at the end of the corridor smashed. As the shards of glass hit the floor, the arm creature came out, and screeched.  
"Oh no, not another Bandersnatch," Oldring sighed, reaching for his weapon.  
"That thing has a name?" Bruce replied shocked, watching the creature approach them slowly.  
"Sure, Alyssa created it," Oldring replied, aiming his handgun at its head.  
Before Oldring could pull the trigger, the Bandersnatch shot its arm down at them and grabbed Oldring's leg. The old man yelled in shock, and was snatched from where he stood, and was hurled at the wall near the Bandersnatch. Bruce ran to help, but stopped as he watched Oldring search himself, and reach for a metal ball.  
A grenade!  
"Go!" Oldring called, his voice strained. "Find your friend and get to Alyssa!"  
"What about you?" Bruce shouted, not wanting the old man to die.  
"Don't worry about me. I wasn't meant to make it out. Call it justice. I have caused half of what is happening! Just go!"  
As Oldring pulled the pin out, Bruce dived through the staircase door, which led to the 7th floor.  
The explosion echoed through his ears, and Bruce was spurred back into action, and sped up the stairs.  
"You're going down, Alyssa," he cursed under his breath.


	6. Hell in Hospital

Aneirin studied the corridor he was in as Seph and Alexis kept striking the door. The corridor was bleak, and had six doors, four of which were locked. The two doors were dangerous paths, one containing four undead dogs and the other carrying the undead scientists.  
It was obvious that Heiadross was testing them, as The Purger had predicted. She was using this evil woman as an obstacle to see if they were worthy of collecting the survivors.  
"Captain," the voice of Alexis spoke. "This door is sealed tight. That woman must not want us to go that way."  
Aneirin shook his head. "Then we march through one of the unlocked doors."  
Nodding, Seph approached the door with the dogs. "Captain, I say we go this way. The greater danger means that it is guarding something. Perhaps a key to getting the survivors."  
Aneirin raised his sword. It made more sense than trying to break through. He wondered how The Purger would react, and how he would be blessed by Heiadross for surviving this.  
"For Heiadross!" he bellowed, and the three burst through the door, blades drawn.  
The dogs snarled at them, approaching them slowly. Suddenly, the dogs made their move, and in a matter of seconds bowled Seph to the ground and shredded him with their teeth and claws. Seph cried in agony, swiping his sword in a vain attempt to fight off the dogs. It was obvious to Aneirin that Seph was not to make the journey any further. He was not worthy.  
Using his blade, Aneirin cut down two of the beasts, while Alexis cut down the other two. The hell dogs fell with a yelp, and convulsed before their deaths.  
"Captain," Alexis called.  
Aneirin approached, and saw that Seph was not dead, but dying. The man coughed blood and his hand still gripped his blade. His eyes were dulling, showing shock that he was to die there and then.  
"I am sorry," Aneirin whispered comfortingly. "You have served your purpose well."  
At that, he walked off, leaving Seph to die in peace. Alexis tailed after him, his hands shaking from fear. He was losing morale, but it was destined to be so. Heiadross was testing them again, taking one of their brethren to create more of a challenge.  
"Do not weaken," Aneirin ordered. "She taken our brother because he was not worthy. If you still trust in Her, you will be saved."

Misty stood outside the elevator door, her handgun ready. She had stopped on the 8th floor according to the elevator, and now she knew why. All around her were dead bodies of scientists and security guards. The corridor before her was soaked in blood, the once white marble floor now almost red. She could hear noises, but not from anything living. It sounded like working electrical equipment. There were three doors discluding the elevator. One she knew led to a staircase. One door, made from pine wood, was labelled 'Security Head's Office', and the door was untouched. The final door led to another corridor, which had four more doors and two of the arm creatures.  
Taking no chances, she ran into the Security Office, and gasped. The room was almost destroyed, the desk broken in half and the bookshelves toppled over. Books mixed eith blood showered the floor. The smell of death was clear, and Misty could see what did it.  
About two metres in front of her was the Head of Security. He was a tall muscular fellow with a balding head and agrey moustach. He was also being eaten by the most bizzare creature she had seen since the arm creature.  
Its body was short and stocky, its skin dark green. However, that wasn't what made her regret opening the door. It was the big head with sharp teeth, it was the claws on its hands and feet, it was the spikes covering its body oozing a purple substance; it was those reasons that made her regret opening the door.  
Suddenly, it sensed her, and shrieked, causing pain in her ears. The scream was all she needed to hear. Without reluctance, she fired upon it, seven bullets ripping through its head and throat. It crawled towards her, croaking at her angrily, and did not move. It was dead.  
The tannoy static erupted, and the voice of the cruel woman who did this came on.  
"Congratulations," she said mockingly. "That Hunter was quite a kill. Pity you have used quite a bit of ammo. I know, why don't you grab some ammo in the armory? You only have to pass three Bandersnatches to get it. Enjoy!"  
A feminine, cruel laugh echoed through the room, and the tannoy went off.  
"I hate you," Misty muttered, and searched the room.  
The office had been destroyed badly, and she found it hard to find anything useful. After searching hard between the broken desk, she found fiteen bullets for her handgun. She remembered how Arzt had taught her to use it during their time hiding. For a college lecturer, he was good with a gun.  
The security head's watch glinted, and Misty suddenly noticed something in his hand. A note. Picking it up, she glanced upon it.  
'Must get to security room. 10th floor safe. Perhaps other survivors up there. Have to re-stock on ammo though, and find a gun. Hear something outside. Knocking. Going to check it.'  
The note ended there, and judging by it, he had believed that there had been a survivor at his door. He had mentioned something about safety on the 10th floor. Perhaps that was where this woman was. If she could get to her, she could give that woman the hell she wanted to give others.  
Feeling better about her chances, Misty reloaded her gun and looked around the corner before leaving the room.  
Nothing.  
Leaving cautiously, she snuck to the door to the other corridor. The two arm creatures were still there, but were not alone. Another one of the things she had encountered, the woman had called them 'Hunters', had leapt out and was attacking the arm creatures. She remembered that the woman had called them Bandersnatches.  
"Great," she cursed. "Bandersnatches, Hunters, zombies; couldn't Umbrella have just created big rabbits or something less deadly?"  
Of course, she doubted that. She knew that great power comes great greed, and that greed usually results to harming others for more power.  
"That's the circle of life for ya!" she sighed, and watched as the Hunter sliced one of the Bandersnatches.  
The other Bandersnatch grabbed the Hunter and swung it around. Deciding to take her chances, Misty dived through the door and taken ashot at the Bandersnatch.  
Missed.  
Cursing, she aimed again before the thing could react and fired. She scored a direct hit into its face. Squealing, the Bandersnatch let go of the Hunter it was swinging, and Misty laughed aloud as the Hunter flew out of the window, hurtling to its death. The Bandersnatch crumpled to the floor, screeching about the hole in its head. It was next to pathetic, and it upset Misty.  
Flooding with mercy, she pulled the trigger on it once more, ending its wretched life. Green blood spurted out at her, staining her half tee.  
"That is going to be hard to wash out," she joked, and laughed aloud.  
"What... is so... funny?"  
Misty paused in horror, and turned on the spot. There was an open door, and laying across the floor on her stomach was a young woman. She was obviously only a twelve years older than Misty, but her labcoat and black skirt made her look younger. She had long red hair, and her lovely looking facewas speckled with dry blood. Her back was ripped open, pieces of flesh hanging off of her labcoat.  
Misty ran to her side, and knelt by her. "What happened?"  
"Alyssa happened," the woman replied. "Four of our researchers caught the virus, and one had left. Deciding to take action, Alyssa let all the creatures loose to clean it up, or so we thought. It seems now that she had been wanting this to see her damned OR1's in action."  
"OR1?"  
The woman smiled grimly. "Bandersnatch's real name. Stupid creatures anyway." She coughed. "Look, search my labcoat, there is a cardkey for the armory. It is the door next to this room. Also, I need you to do me a favour."  
Misty nodded. "I'll do my best. What is it?"  
"My office is opposite of this room," she gasped. "Can you please get me the photo of my son? I would love to look upon his face for one last time."  
Misty held back a tear. Oh God, she has a son! "Sure," she replied, staying strong. "I'll do it now."  
The woman nodded, and weakly dropped the cardkey next to Misty's foot. She looked at the cardkey and read it. The picture was of the woman before her, looking really attractive. Next to the picture was her name: Sunry Holdings. Thanking Sunry, Misty sped for her office, ready to give Sunry her last request.

Alyssa cursed at the progress the survivors were making. The Bruce guy was fast, and seemed to be lucky as he didn't run into anything dangerous on the 7th floor. The Misty girl on the other hand, she was cunning, waiting for the creatures to kill each other before attacking. She also shown compassion, as she was returning a picture frame to the dying Dr Holdings. The cultists had been the only thing that had pleased her, watching as that one was eaten by dogs. She had laughed at how his men had left him to die so ruthlessly.  
Seeing her old mentor die was disturbing her. Not the death itself, of course, that had been brilliant. The part which was worrrying her was where he got the grenade from, and how willing he was to help Bruce. The old man had changed, it was obvious.  
"So you can handle things here, can you?" Alyssa snarled aloud. "How about a shooter to top it all off!"  
She was about to go out there and shoot the ones who made when she remembered what was making its way to the 9th floor. The spiders!  
Starting to feel better, she released the doors on the ground floor and the doors on the 9th floor. The spare key needed to open the 10th floor door was on the 9th floor, in the dead hands of Dr Hardy, and Hardy was now a virus carrier.  
"Things are about to get interesting," she cackled.


	7. The 9th Floor

A human hand shot out of the darkness, reaching out for him. Bruce leapt back, and sighed with relief as the zombie was stuck in a steel cage, unable to leave its new prison.  
"What you looking at me for?" Bruce said to the moaning corpse reaching for him. "I"m not letting you out!"  
"Such compassion," the tannoy blurted, and Bruce knew it was the bitch who had locked them in the hospital.  
Alyssa!  
"Originally, I would let him out for the fun of it, but I have a better challenge for you. As you can see, the 8th floor is dead of life, and the armory is quite empty of weapons. It is a pity, that grenade launcher would have been terrific right now." She cackled. "However, I ensured that there was a shell or two for your shotgun. It is just a matter of finding them." She laughed once again, venom in every breath.  
"Why are you doing this?" Bruce shouted, looking around him, observing the corpses of two Bandersnatches and a few scientists.  
Alyssa carried on talking, as though she did not hear him. "If I was you, I would just head to the 9th floor. Your friend already has."  
Bruce cursed her, and looked inside an office. Nothing seemed interesting; just a dead woman holding a picture frame, a few papers scattered across the room and an antique typewriter on a bloody desk. No guns, no ammo, no Misty.  
Footsteps.  
Bruce ducked behind the desk, and peered towards the doorway. The footsteps grew closer, and soon he was looking at two of the cultists that had chased them. The leader seemed fine, not a droplet of blood on his robe, but the other had a small gash in his shoulder, and was still bleeding.  
"Captain," the wounded one started. "It seems to be dead of life here. Should we proceed further up the stairs and to the next test?"  
The Captain shook his head. "Not yet, Alexis," he ordered calmly. "It was that thoughtless attitude that caused Seph"s demise."  
Alexis nodded, and Bruce raised his eyebrows. One of them was dead, yet they seemed so careless about it, as though it was meant to be.  
Come on, he thought to himself. There is a woman who has locked you in an evil hospital, there are zombies running around, you have seen what remains of your copter and you are surprised that these men are unaffected by the death of their comrade?  
"It seems we have no other choice," the Captain said. "There is a high chance we can get the survivors, and perhaps the usurper that Heiadross uses to test us."  
Heiadross? Bruce shook his head. This was getting stranger by the minute. He heard the footsteps slowly fade away in the distance, and he sighed. With any luck, those men would get killed with their other pal, and he could find Misty and get the hell out of there. He exhaled. What were the chances of it? It wasn"t as easy as it sounded, and he knew it.  
"I don"t care," he growled to himself. "I just want to get the hell out of this cesspool!"  
At that, he leapt to his feet, and ran for the stairs leading to the 9th floor.

The 9th floor was a blood bath. Bodies were shredded, and full of bullet holes. Whatever had happened here, it had involved a civil feud between the survivors.  
Good, Misty thought, stepping over a man"s head.  
The only other door was one that led to a giant room with small cubicle offices. The room was stuffy, and the ceiling was covered in a white texture that looked sticky and silky. She knew what it was as she witnessed eight zombies stuck in it, trying to wriggle free.  
Spider webs. Giant, sticky, horrible spider webs, obviously made by giant, sticky, horrible spiders.  
Taking precaution, she ducked low, trying to shuffle her way to the door labelled "storeroom" at the other end. If she was right, there would be a crowbar to open the door with.  
Crunch!  
Turning swiftly, Misty pointed her gun at the entrance, and groaned in horror as the Purger"s men approached, minus one of them. Their leader pointed at her, his face emotionless.  
"You are coming with us, for the good of Heiadross," he spoke, his voice giving her a chill down her spine.  
"Love to see you try," Misty smirked, gripping her gun tightly. She didn"t want to kill him, but if he touched her at all-  
A scuttling noise echoed from the Purger"s Captain"s area, and the two men looked around swiftly, trying to spot the source. Misty knew what it was, and prayed it wasn"t nearby.  
"Captain!"  
At that call, it struck. A giant, black haired arachnid leapt from the ceiling, snatched up the long haired one named the Captain, and shot back to the ceiling. She shuddered as she heard his screams, and blinked in shock as the guy"s partner was knocked backwards by one of the creature"s legs. The man hit the wall, and lay motionless.  
Misty wondered if the hit had killed him, but she saw his chest moving. The man was alive for now.  
She turned once again and carried on shuffling to the storeroom, breathing lightly to prevent attracting unwanted attention. She moved lower to the ground as she walked under the zombies on the ceiling, the arms reaching out at her. She felt a tug at her foot, and spun her head around, horrified to have a piece of spider web stuck on her shoe. Carefully, she removed the web, using a letter opener on the ground.  
She wrapped her hand around the door handle to the storeroom and pulled. Suddenly, the door flew open, knocking her on her back as a zombie with two bullet wounds and a labcoat came fell out, and started to crawl at her. As though it was a trap, the zombies suspended on the ceiling fell to the ground around her, moaning and reaching out to grab her. Shaking like a leaf, Misty gripped her gun and fired twice, destroying the head of the zombie from the storeroom. Before she carried on, she grabbed the key in its hand, only noticing it due to the glint of it.  
Quickly, she crawled away, feeling the zombies clumsily pursue her. She rushed herself inside her head, urging herself to get to the staircase before the zombies caught up. As she got to the door, the smell of fresh death hit her, and she forcefully held in the bile rising up her throat. She turned her head, and as the zombies got close the door shut automatically.  
She studied the door with curiosity, and as she turned her head her heart leapt with joy. Before her was a man; a man wielding a shotgun and with a stained shirt. The man had black hair which had become scruffy quickly, and had a slight tan. The man grinned and held out his hand for her to grab.  
It was Bruce!  
Smiling, she accepted his hand, and gasped as he pulled her up easily. She looked around, and noticed something was wrong. She remembered the man who lay still, breathing but not concious. He had been knocked back, and had hurtled through the air into the wall. Now he was gone.  
"Bruce, do you know where that man went?"  
Bruce blinked and smiled. "You"re welcome." He shrugged his shoulders as she rolled her eyes. "I don"t know. The other guy is over there, wrapped up nice and tight. I take it he is dead by the puncture wounds in his neck."  
She decided not to look. "The other man. Did you see him when you got here?"  
Bruce shook his head. "Our good friend "The Captain" is the only one I saw when I came here."  
"We have to get out of here," Misty said, dismissing the man. "This key should open the door up there."  
Nodding, Bruce ran to the staircase, and up the steps to the door. Close behind, Misty followed. Bruce taken the key from her as she got to the top, and unlocked the door.  
As it swung open slowly, she started to regret it as they both were staring at the barrel of a grenade launcher, held by an angry woman.

Alyssa was furious. They were not meant to make it. They were supposed to die, like the others. The cultists died, the zombies died, Dr Oldring died; why didn"t they?  
"You think you can just get away with this?" she snarled at them, feeling powerful as they dropped their weapons and raised their hands. "You were supposed to die!"  
"What is going on?" the man asked sternly. "What is your problem?"  
Alyssa felt rage flood her body, and without hesitation, she bashed the girl in the stomach, and sneered as she fell to her knees, coughing and moaning in pain. She was scaring them, she knew it.  
"I"ll tell you what my problem is," she snapped, watching Bruce"s face twist in hatred. "Nobody appreciates my work, and you are among those ignoramous". You don"t deserve to live!" She treated him to a grin. "And you won"t. Know why? Because I am going now, and if you dare follow me, I"ll blow your freaking heads off!"  
She used her launcher to force them to go inside, the man slowly helping the girl up, leading her away from Alyssa.  
"Good people," she mocked. "You got that part right."  
Alyssa turned, and started to make her way out when she noticed something. Didn"t the girl have a handgun?  
"Stupid bitch," she heard muttered from behind.  
Shocked and afraid, Alyssa turned on the spot, about to fire-  
- and suddenly she was falling down the stairs, the grenade launcher lost down further flights of steps and into a fire raging below. She hit the floor, and Alyssa cried in pain. Her shoulder was killing her, the pain unbearable. She glanced to see it, and saw a hole in her labcoat, blood trickling out of it. She had been shot.  
Before she could respond any further, a blurry shadow stood over her, and with a swift movement of the foot she was out cold.

Bruce stood in shock for a while, the events sinking into his head. They had been led into the room under grenade launcher point, and as the bitch, Alyssa, was about to leave he had grabbed Misty"s handgun, cursed her and fired once, aiming for her head.  
However, he had been in a rush, and the shot had been off target. It had been a hit, but not a kill, which was a shame. If there was anything that woman deserved, it was to die.  
The coughing of Misty brought him back to his senses, and he helped her up to her feet. She seemed fine; alittle winded by the hit but apart from that she was healthy.  
"Hey, are you okay?" he asked.  
"She flinched as she touched her stomach, and groaned quietly. "I"ll live, thanks. Nice shooting, Tex!"  
Bruce held back a grin. "Afraid not," he replied. "She is still alive."  
"Well," Misty smiled weakly. "We can change that."  
As Misty walked to the staircase, she gasped.  
"What is it?" Bruce asked worriedly, feeling his spirit sink.  
Misty turned to face him. "She is gone!"


	8. Back on Course

Bruce inhaled the air outside, and coughed, regretting it. The stench was terrible. They were finally outside of the hospital, ready to forget what had happened. However, it would not leave him, like the nightmares he had. They came back to him, and suddenly he felt the pain.  
He remembered the beggings of his mother, the angry echoing of his father"s voice, the tears that had ran down his face.  
"Are you okay?"  
He snapped back to attention, and saw Misty looking at him with concern, her hand on his shoulder. He smiled at her, masking his fear of the memories.  
"I"m fine," he whispered comfortingly. "Just glad to be out of there."  
"Yeah, me too," she sighed, kicking an empty can of cola. "Still, where do you think she went? That woman?"  
He shrugged. "I don"t know, nor do I care. I just want to find Baker and get out of here."  
Misty nodded in agreement, and the two started walking down the street carefully. During their walk, he told her about what had happened in the hospital, about Dr Oldring and what he heard from the cultists, and in return she told him about the Hunter creature she had witnessed, the dying woman and the spider. Both listened to each other"s tales, and they started discussing about their lives before this. He told her about his job and the reports he had done, and she told him about her studies in college, and funny stories about her father fishing.  
It seemed like a matter of minutes, and she pointed her finger at a giant building. The building was massive, with dark brown bricks and about two floors. The entrance was a pair of red double doors, and around the walls were small windows that were barred up.  
"This is it," she said happily. "We made it, and with little encounters."  
Bruce grinned. She was right. Perhaps the creatures were dying already. He doubted it, but there was a chance.  
They sprinted for the doors, feeling more hopeful about their survival. They reached the doors, and with triumphance, he pulled the doors open, and frowned.  
Three zombies in police uniform turned around, and cried hungrily at him. They started fumbling towards him, one falling over the dead body of a muscular man wearing a ripped shirt and black shorts.  
"I knew it was too good to be true," he muttered to himself, and heard the gunfire coming from Misty, one of the zombies slumping to the ground at a head shot. She kept firing until the three were down, and the two of them walked in, closing the doors behind them.  
The room which was the entrance was huge, the floors red marble. The room had four doors, and the only other objects in the room were used bullets, a desk covered in papers, a typewriter which had been in use before being abandoned, and chewed up dead bodies.  
Misty started walking towards the closest door.  
"Wait," Bruce said abruptly, grabbing her arm gently. "What are you doing?"  
She turned to face him, and pulled her arm away. "That is the office of Chief Elena Mets. If she is alive, she will be in here."  
"She could be one of those zombies and still be in there," Bruce reasoned. "We can"t just go wandering around on our own."  
Misty stared at him, and he wished he had kept his mouth shut. "Look, I appreciate your help and everything, I do. But you must realise I have been surviving here for a while. I can handle myself. If it makes you happy, we choose two doors each. We explore them, and meet back here. I plan to check the office and the cells. I suggest you look into those two doors: the armory and the offices."  
Bruce nodded without resistance. He didn"t like the idea, but she was right. It hurt him to think it, but Misty seemed more in control than he did most of the time.  
"Okay," he said, raising his arms insubmission. "But if you don"t return, I"ll come looking for you."  
Smiling, Misty held out her hand. "It"s adeal."  
Bruce shook it. "Deal."

Mayor Barry Wilkins whistled a song as he shot down one of those zombies. He knew Umbrella had been up to something, but he never guessed that it had been Viral Warfare. Now, it seemed Umbrella found out about his curiosity and let loose the beasts they had created to hunt him down.  
It didn"t matter now, he didn"t need to warn the people about Umbrella as most were either dead or infected. Those he had seen alive had tried killing him, blaming him for it all. It had been a terrible week, and still he had heard gunshots around the precinct. Officers and vigilante survivors were still around, but most were not cooperative. The only man who had played nice had been Officer Roger Ryman, and he had left the precinct to help out two other officers in the street. Whether the man was dead or not was a mystery to him.  
Barry checked the handgun he had found. Only two bullets left. Cursing Umbrella, he kicked the corpse of the freshly put down zombie. Things were bad enough with the zombies and monsters, but there had been reports of men with swords running about, killing or stealing people. He had been worried about meeting these men, hoping they would be wiped out along with Umbrella"s scientists.  
Barry had planned to run to the hospital, if not for what Ryman had told him about people not coming out alive. At first, he had considered that the people had found a saferoom and had hid there. However, that hospital was also the area Umbrella had hidden their monsters, and he had doubted his first thought instantly.  
A gunshot echoed again, coming from the main entrance. More joined it, and soon they stopped. No screams.  
"Survivors," Barry gasped with joy.  
He was about to run to the main entrance when he remembered what Ryman had told him.  
"Don"t run to any gunshots," Ryman had told him. "Right now, people are shooting first and asking questions later."  
The very quote stopped him, and at that, Barry sat down at a mahogany desk with a computer on it.  
"Quick rest, then I"ll-"  
Before he could continue, he fell asleep, hoping he would be alive when he would wake up.


	9. Enemy Returns

The office of Chief Elena Mets was as obliterated as the security office in the hospital, with the exception of having no beasts eating the Chief's dead body. The office was a shambles; books and documents stained with blood everywhere and the painting on the wall ripped down. The wooden desk was dripping with blood, and had the body of the chief propped upon it, her face twisted in horror and suffering, her obese body shredded and exposing her ribs. It seemed that she had been attacked by a zombie, but she had taken care of it before she had died, the corpse of her killer on the floor, its head caved in.  
Misty backed off, swallowing bile back and holding her handgun tight. She had found more ammo on the chief"s body, a clip containing six bullets. It wasn't much, but it was good enough. She and Bruce needed all the ammo they could get.  
Next to the chief was a book which caught Misty's interest. It seemed to be the diary belonging to the chief.  
"Perhaps she knew something we don't," Misty said to herself, and picked up the book, flicking through the pages.  
"Day Two:  
Things have been going wrong from the start. I have sent many officers to rescue the civilians that have not been gathered to the precinct. I ensured they left well armed and reinforced. The Mayor seems to be under the impression that it is an Umbrella assassination attempt, and is growing very impatient. He is becoming an asshole, and I wish he would leave me be. The noise outside suggests that the zombies are gathering around the precinct. I had better help out and secure the surviving civilians."  
Misty scratched her head, and moved on to the next page.  
"Day Five:  
They got in somehow, I don't know! I went to check the cells and found that they were all empty of life. All that remains in there are the zombies of the survivors we gathered. We gathered the living members, but the zombies separated us. I haven't seen Mayor Wilkins in a while, but I couldn't care less. I am in my office now, locked in with Officer Billy Dole. He was bitten by one of them, and seems to be getting ill. I hope he gets better: I'm not trained in first aid."  
Misty turned the page, only to find that it stopped at day five. Misty now knew how the chief had died: she had let the infected in, and that was her downfall. She was caring for her fellow officer, and it had been her demise.  
It was a pity, but she couldn't dwell on it.  
"Rest in peace, Chief Mets," she prayed, and walked out of the office, ready to enter the other door.

Bruce looked around the cells, and sighed with relief. There were eight zombies behind bars, and none of them were Harv Baker. The cells room was huge, about twenty cells and two desks for the cell guards, who now lay dead, hardly any flesh left on them. The smell of rotting flesh and excretion had been too much, and Bruce had vomited in the bin next to the closest desk when he had entered. Now he was getting used to it, and it made him feel worse than he had when he vomited.  
The moans of the dead sent him back to the nightmares, and again he was there with his mother and father, in the alley behind his house, his mother crying, his father pulling out his gun, the shots fired.  
He shook his head. This was not the time to go down memory lane, and he knew that more than anyone. His nightmares would have to wait until he got out of the current one he was in.  
The door behind him slammed, and instinctively Bruce dived towards the wall, turning around and pointing his shotgun at the figure that had entered. The man was African-American, and was built like a wrestler. He wore a black shirt, baggy blue jeans and a brown baseball cap. The man held a steel pipe in his hand. He had a black, thick mustache and a shaved head.  
"Who are you?" the man asked, his manner gruff.  
"I ask you the same question," Bruce threw back harshly.  
The man lowered the steel pipe, and relaxed his body. He held out his hand, and Bruce took it. The man hoisted him up easily, and Bruce was hoping that the man was not hostile, as many of his encounters had been.  
"The name is Cal Blake, and I am one of the surviving prisoners of this place."  
Bruce nodded. "I'm Bruce Campbell, local reporter. So you are a prisoner? Any reasons why that is so?"  
Cal raised his eyebrow, and responded coldly. "I am not a criminal prisoner, if that is what you think. I was forced in here by the police for my safety. I tried resisting, but the bastards here wouldn't let me save my wife. Since the zombies broke in, I have been wandering around, helping as many as I can. I have saved a few people, and now I have saved you."  
"Saved me?" Bruce asked. "From what?"  
"From wandering around and probably end up like them." He pointed at the zombies in the cells. "Those poor people were put in there, like I was. We were considered dangerous because we were desperate to reach loved ones, so they locked us up. In the end, only I escaped here, hence the open jail cell. It was lucky I was locked up on my own. Wish I could say the same about the others."  
"Have you seen a man, a reporter? His name is Harv Baker. He was in the city reporting the riot incident here, which is now obviously more than a riot."  
Cal looked towards the ceiling, then back at Bruce. "I did see such a man, but it was four days ago. He helped me bust out of my cell, claiming I should not have been locked up. I tried asking him questions about the situation, but all he replied was that his name was Harv and he was going to bring down Umbrella."  
"So he is not one of the ones you have saved?"  
Cal shook his head. "Afraid not, sorry. However, I'll help you find your friend, and-"  
Instantly, the door swung open, and Bruce gasped with shock as he saw who it was. Three men, all in black robes with their hoods up. The men moved swiftly. One jumped in the air and kicked Cal in the face, knocking the man into his open cell, unconcious.  
Before they could approach Bruce, he smashed the butt of the shotgun on top of one's head, and blinked as he heard the cry of the man. A fist flew into his face, and before he fell into darkness, he heard one scream an order.  
"Let's go now, we have got-"

Barry woke up to the sound of the door close quietly, and raised his handgun at the intruder. It was a young girl, wearing a half tee and jeans. It took him a while to see it was a survivor, but he did not lower his weapon.  
"Who are you, and what do you want?" he ordered sternly, holding back a yawn.  
The girl raised her hands in surrender. "Don"t shoot. My name is Misty Walker, and I am looking for someone."  
Barry stood up, his eyes and gun on the girl. "Well you are in the wrong place. Everyone here is dead, except for me."  
He watched as the girl lowered her hands, and put away her gun. Realising he was being stupid, Barry holstered his weapon.  
"I'm sorry," he apologised. "I haven't seen anyone in ages who is alive. The survivors around here take a shot at anything that moves, so I usually avoid human contact. Who are you looking for?"  
The girl, Misty, put her hands on her small hips. "He is a reporter by the name of Harv Baker. I need to find him for a friend."  
"Sorry, don't know anyone by that name, but I did see a reporter. He was hassling the chief about her views on this incident. That was about five days ago." She nodded in disappointment, and he continued. "I can help you find him if you want to. I might not be a military type, but I can do my best."  
Misty smiled at him. "Thanks, I'd appreciate it. First, we need to find my friend, Bruce. He is the one who is really looking for this reporter. Perhaps if we work together, we can find a way to leave this place."  
"There, I can help you," Barry grinned. "On the Town Hall roof is a copter, capable of carrying up to six people including the pilots. If we hurry, we might find this reporter and the four of us can fly off."  
"Won't we need a pilot?" Misty asked.  
"Not to worry," Barry smiled. "I am an expert. Before my days of being Mayor I was a pilot for the police. Now all we really need to worry about is-"  
The door shattered into pieces, and as Barry had dreaded, he saw two men in robes walk in. The girl ran from them and to Barry, making Barry feel an anger rise within him.  
"Don't move, scum!" he yelled, feeling powerful as he pointed his gun at them. "I will shoot you if you touch myself or the girl!"  
The men looked at each other, and before Barry could blink one of them threw their sword straight into Barry's chest. He shook his head in confusion, and looked at Misty. She was staring in horror, her eyes wide and frightened.  
"I'm sorry," Barry tried to say, but only made a coughing noise as blood rushed out of his mouth.  
The world was going black, and suddenly Barry fell. The last thing he saw were the feet of one of the men, and heard the screams of the girl as they taken her away.


	10. Ready For Revenge

The screams were clearer, as were the faces. His father yelling. His mother crying, holding Bruce closely. His father pull out his revolver.  
It had been a bad night. They had been coming home from a meal, the three of them. Bruce had been holding his mother's hand, his father grinning with glee at his side. They were joking and laughing, his father telling him stories about times when he and his mother had been courting and something funny had happened. He was laughing with them, the warmth of their love keeping him immune from the cold night.  
Then it had happened. From out of the blue, twelve men dressed in black coats and wearing baraclavas had jumped out at them, all armed with guns. They shouted, ordering his parents to give them everything they had, including what Bruce had had.  
His mother hugged Bruce tightly, crying. His father threatened the men, and whipped out his revolver. Before his father could move, the cold hearted bastards filled him with bullets, his dying screams causing Bruce to cry in fear.  
The men approached he and his mother, pulling them apart from each other. One of the men pulled off his baraclava and kissed his mother, only to receive a bite into his lower lip. The man cursed, hit her and blown a hole through her head.  
Bruce had screamed, struggling as the other man holding him pinned him to the floor and kicked him in his face, knocking him out cold. When he had woken up, he was still in the alley, next to his dead parents. Their wallets and valuables had been stolen, but most of all their lives. Bruce had not left their sides for twelve hours, endlessly howling in tears. He swore revenge, cursing the men, hoping to hurt them back.  
He never did get the chance of revenge, and that is why the nightmares haunted him.  
Bruce rose his head quickly, feeling it throb harshly. He studied his surroundings, and sighed with relief. He was still in the cells room. They had left him.  
The sound of moans hurt his head, and Bruce stumbled out of the room, holding his forehead in pain. He had quite a bruise.  
Cal!  
The very name made Bruce look around. Cal had been here when they had attacked, and had been knocked out. He was not in the cell he had been kicked in. Feeling frightened for the man, Bruce ran out of the room, and heard a groan of sorrow.  
Picking up the pace, he ran inside a room that he was supposed to enter, and on the floor was Cal, kneeling in front of fifteen dead people.  
"They killed them," he muttered to Bruce, not turning to face him, staring at the bodies. "They left us alone and killed them. Those bastards just slaughtered them!"  
Bruce lowered his head. "I"m sorry for your loss." A sudden thought dawned on him. If they did not take him, who did they take? "Misty! Have you seen a girl around? She is wearing a half tee, red trainers and jeans."  
"The girl you are on about is not here. Those men who attacked us must have taken her away," he sighed, still watching the bodies, and started stroking the hair of a young boy around seven years old. "How could they do this? Kill so many innocents and feel no shame or mercy?"  
Bruce placed his hand gently on his shoulder. "I need your help. Please, can you help me get my friend?"  
Cal did not move, or say anything for a while. When he spoke, it was full of defeat. "Please, I need some time with the people I considered family for the last few days."  
Bruce nodded. It was official. Cal was no use right now, and forcing him was just cruel. The man lost many people who he had protected and loved, and he wanted to mourn them.  
Slowly taking his hand off him, Bruce walked out the door, and sighed as he heard the quiet sobs of Cal as he left.

Misty opened her eyes, and tried to move. She was tied up, and restrained tightly to a wooden chair.  
"Perfect," she cursed, and looked around.  
The room was dark, only a few candles around to light up the room. The room was huge, and had very little decoration. Next to her were two chairs with a person in each one. There were other chairs, nine in total including hers. Every chair contained a person, most zombified other than the two next to her. In front of her was a giant gothic statue of a woman holding a sword pointing downwards. The woman's face was cruel looking, and very royal.  
She tried struggling again, only to hear a voice next to her.  
"Don't bother," the voice replied. "You are as doomed as I am!"  
Misty turned her head, and muttered a curse as she saw the face of the psycho from the hospital, Alyssa.  
"What are you doing here?" Misty snarled.  
Alyssa looked at her, and raised an eyebrow. "Believe me, I wasn't planning for this, especially being tied up on here. I was hoping to watch you die, not die with you."  
Misty growled. "Bitch! You deserve to die, and I am glad you lured us in, because now you are going to get what you deserve!"  
"Yes," Alyssa smirked. "But so are you!"  
"Be quiet, please," another voice begged the other side of Misty. "I am thinking."  
Misty turned to look, and saw a man. He was a thin man, and only two inches taller than her. He had dusty brown hair, and wore a white shirt and a red tie. His trousers were brown and had small rips on the legs, and his shoes were black and muddy.  
"Who are you?" Misty asked. "Another researcher?"  
The man looked at her insulted. "Hell no! I am a reporter, and I was going to bring down Umbrella with this report."  
"Wait," Misty replied, making a connection in her mind. "Is your name Baker?"  
The man looked at her hopefully. "Yes, yes it is. How do you know my name?"  
Misty smiled. "I know it because there is a fellow reporter looking for you. His name is Bruce Campbell. His copter crashed."  
Baker's face shone with hope. "Bruce! Is he okay? How is he?"  
"As far as I know, he is okay," she replied. "The cultist guys don't have him, so I suppose he got away. The question is, will he find us in time?"  
Alyssa laughed. "That I would love to see! Your little friend will be killed instantly."  
"Shut up!" Misty snapped, and turned to Baker again. "If he can find us, which I believe he will, he can get us out of here. All of us."  
"Oh joy," Alyssa giggled. "I can"t wait."  
Misty ignored her, and looked up at the ceiling.  
"Please, Bruce," she whispered. "Help us."


	11. Target is Close

Bruce pulled the trigger with rage, blowing the zombie's head off. He hated himself for what had happened, and hated Misty for it. He knew they should have gone together searching the building. That way there was a chance they would have made it.  
"Do not kid yourself," a voice from behind said to him. "You couldn"t have done anything. Either way, they would have got her."  
Bruce slowly turned his head, and saw the figure of Cal standing right behind him, holding a machete and an SMG. Bruce nodded, smiling grimly.  
"You okay?"  
"No," Cal replied calmly. "I want to help you save your family, and not let them end up like mine. I know where they are hiding. It is in an old church which is where they worship their Goddess."  
"Are you sure you are up to this?" he asked Cal, and Cal shook his head in amusement.  
"More than you are," he replied. "For starters, the church is in the opposite direction."  
Bruce kicked himself mentally and turned around. Cal was smiling slightly, and Bruce caught the glint of a tear. He had been crying over his lost people.  
"Lead the way," Bruce smiled back.  
Cal shook his head and walked on, not saying a word. Close behind, Bruce started to follow. The walk was quiet, none of them speaking, the only sounds around them being the distant moans of the zombies, moving around aimlessly in hopes of finding fresh flesh. The street was empty of movement except for themselves. All around were the bodies of shot zombies, eaten civilians and dead officers slumped against the walls. The lamplights flickered, and the sky started getting darker.  
"Oh man," Cal sighed. "This is not good!"  
Bruce looked around in search of an attacker, but did not see any. "What is it?"  
Cal turned to face him. "Ever seen or heard of a Hunter before?"  
Bruce shook his head. "Never seen one."  
At that, Cal fired into the air, causing Bruce to dive to the pavement and cover his ears. When Cal finished, Bruce stood up and glared.  
"Are you insane? What happens if-"  
He was cut off as a corpse fell down between them, blood soaking his trouser legs. The creature was big, but not taller than them. It had very long claws and a mouth full of razor-like teeth. Its body was covered in spikes, and looking at it, Bruce knew what it was.  
"A Hunter?"  
Cal nodded.  
"But how did you know?" Bruce asked, looking around. "Are there any more?"  
"That was the only one following us," Cal noted. "That means that it was a scout, and its pack are close by. I have seen how these things hunt, and I have a feeling that we are not the only ones heading for that church."  
Bruce felt sweat trickle down his neck, and fear for Misty grew. Those cultists were one thing, but these things? They were monsters, and they struck more fear into Bruce than an army of cultists. It had been pure luck Cal noticed it, or they would have probably been scrambled.  
"Let's move," Cal said suggestively. "The sooner we get there, the sooner we can save your friend."  
The two carried on walking, and Bruce vowed that if he met the guy responsible for all of this, he would kill him.

The door behind them opened, and Misty's hopes rose as she imagined seeing the face of Bruce appear, smile, and free her and Baker. However, it was not Bruce, but two cultists. She recognised one as the guy who had survived the hospital, and the other man was obvious too.  
The other man had his hood down. He was tall and thin. His hair was dark and short. He wore black robes with gold rims, and carried a merciless looking sword. The man's face was worn, and his eyes were dull and dark, as cruel as the person that owned them.  
It was the Purger!  
"My Lord," the other man coughed, and Misty saw he was holding a wound on his arm. "The creatures are getting through our ranks. Soon, there will be no one left."  
The Purger tutted. "Patience, Alexis. This is just another test of Heiadross. After all, you did return to us alive, and with a sacrifice. Do you doubt Heiadross?"  
Alexis shook his head. "No, My Lord. I trust in her as always."  
"Good," his master replied, stroking his blade. "I trust that you will keep the door guarded from any interruptions. This ritual must be done. The heads of six undead and three living must be brought before Her tonight!"  
"Yes, My Lord. I will let nothing pass me."  
The Purger smiled. "Well do as you are required."  
Bowing, Alexis sped for the door way, and Misty watched asthe Purger put down his blade in front of the statue and approached her.  
"Ah, young one. I guess you wonder what we are doing?" he smiled caringly. "We are preparing your future. You will play a great part in cleansing the land,as Heiadross will return to us."  
Next to her, Alyssa laughed, and Misty cursed the woman in her mind. The Purger observed Alyssa, and moved on to her.  
"I take it you do not believe us. For that, you will be the first of the living to die."  
Alyssa chuckled further, but was silenced when the Purger slapped her face hard, the noise echoing through the room. Alyssa stared hard at him.  
"You will pay for that," she cursed at him.  
The Purger stepped away, ignoring Alyssa's threat, and started praying to the statue.  
"Oh God," Baker hissed to Misty, making her face him. "He is starting the ritual. Bruce can come out now!"  
The screams and clashes of swords outside the room were deafening, but the Purger seemed careless of this. It seemed that he was more concerned about his ritual, which was bad for her. If he was not easily distracted, this would cause trouble for them.


	12. Science Vs Faith

Bruce and Cal snuck into the old church, noticing the amount of corpses littered across the floor, both belonging to Hunters and cultists. It seemed to have been a big battle between the two sides. The further they moved forward, the more corpses of Hunters they saw.  
"This is just too creepy," Cal muttered, and Bruce agreed.  
Who won the battle? Who was alive? Were they too late?  
The sounds of screeches and yells answered his questions. They sped together to the scene, and hid behind a wall. Looking at each other, they peered from behind their hiding place and Bruce felt his eyes widen and jaw drop.  
In front of them was a giant pair of oak double doors, which must have led to the Ritual Room. However, the obstacle before them was what made Bruce shiver.  
There were eight Hunters, circling two of the cultists. The two men looked ready to fight, but were also wounded. The Hunters clawed at them, only to be struck with blades. The two men were working together, back to back to ensure their protection. The creatures screamed in rage, slowly getting impatient.  
"I have an idea," Cal suddenly hissed to him. "Stay here, and run when you see that it is the perfect time. Save your friend."  
"What about you?" Bruce asked, wondering what the plan was.  
"Do not worry about me," he replied, and Bruce understood what the plan was. He was going to lure them all away.  
"Forget about it, Cal. Don"t do it! You might die!" Bruce begged.  
Cal shook his head. "Do I look like I care?" He put his hand on Bruce"s shoulder. "Just get your friend and survive."  
At that, Cal pushed him into the wall and dived out from his hiding place, calling unintelligably at the Hunters. Suddenly, Cal was running, all the Hunters pursuing him.  
He breathed. He was on his own now. Cal was gone, but so were the Hunters.  
"What happened?" one of the cultists asked the other.  
"Remember what the Purger said, Gareth," the other replied. "Heiadross is watching us, choosing the worthy."  
"But what about Roberto, and Hilde? Were they not worthy, Matthew?" Gareth asked his friend.  
Matthew chuckled. "Obviously!"  
Bruce could no longer take it. Screaming curses, he leapt out at them, hearing the one called Gareth warn his friend of an intruder. Mercilessly, Bruce pulled the trigger on the one named Matthew, now recognising him as the man who had knocked him out. Matthew blinked rapidly, and looked down at his stomach in horror to see a giant hole.  
Bruce lowered his weapon, shocked at what he had done. He had actually killed him. He thought he would have not cared about such a thing, but he was hit hard by it. He had just shot this man, without hesitation. The nightmares came back to him, seeing the men kill his parents, but now see his own face among the group.  
The one named Gareth was also staring in shock, and watched in silence as his friend fell to the floor, dead. Resigning, Gareth dropped his sword and knelt over Matthew, and placed a symbol into the dead man's hand.  
"Go, if you want," the cultist muttered. "I have failed anyway. Just leave us."  
Feeling guilt overwhelm him, Bruce walked past the two and entered the doorway. As the door swung open, he gasped at what he saw. The room before him was dark and gothic. Around the area were nine chairs, each had a person tied to them. At the very end of the massive room was a gothic statue of a woman, her sword pointing downwards in a stabbing position. before that was a man, praying on his knees.  
Bruce started to reload, when a man on his left dived at him, his sword ready to plunge into Bruce's face. Without thinking, Bruce dodged the attack, rolling across the floor and back onto his feet. The attacker kicked the door closed, and pointed his blade at him.  
"You have gone far enough, infidel!" the man threatened, swiping his sword through the air.  
"I want my friends, now!" Bruce shouted at him.  
"Bruce? Help us!" It was Misty.  
"Thank God for that! I thought I was toast!" It was Baker.  
"He will die soon." It was the bitch, Alyssa.  
"For Heiadross!" The attacker cried, and threw himself at Bruce.  
Taking a dive, Bruce rolled onto his back and hit the attacker's legs with the barrel of his shotgun. The man hit the floor with a thud, and didn't move. He was out for the count!  
Rolling onto his knees, Bruce coughed. "Okay," he muttered. "Now for the Big Bad himself!"

David Splaise broke off the ritual at the sound of the attack, and watched in awe as the intruder knocked out Alexis. The intruder was resourceful, he had to hand it to him. However, he did not have the blessing of Heiadross, something Splaise received early on during the outbreak.  
"Well done," Splaise said, clapping for the intruder. "A remarkable display, if I may say so. Unfortunately, this is where your journey ends. As much interest I have in your survival without Heiadross, I have a ritual to do, and I must get to it."  
"That I cannot allow," the intruder replied, readying the shotgun in his hand.  
He laughed at the intruder. It was amusing as how he believed he had power here.  
"You cannot stop me," Splaise explained. "You are merely a test from Heiadross. Your real purpose is to try and fail, as many have before you. The previous Purgers failed their mission, but I shall restore their honour by doing this. The Purger line shall never fall."  
The intruder walked closer to him, anger burning deep within his eyes. Splaise felt fear creep into his heart slowly, but he did not show it. It was just a test. This man would surrender, and he could cut off his head as well. Ten heads were better than nine, and Heiadross may give him a bigger reward for his loyalty and trust.  
"I want my friends, NOW!" the man screamed, pointing the shotgun at him, and Splaise felt the fear grow.  
"I am afraid I cannot do that," he repeated. "They are part of this ritual, and it must be done."  
Before the intruder could reply, Splaise made his move. Grabbing his sword, he sliced the air in front of him, destroying the intruder's shotgun. The man backed off in shock, looking for a weapon to use. Taking no chances, he thrust his sword forward, attempting to stab the intruder in the chest, but he dodged it.  
"You will not stop me!" Splaise growled in rage. "Heiadross will rise again, I tell you! She will drink your blood from her goblet, and use your bones to make a crown!"  
The intruder dived away from his sword, and picked up the sword belonging to Alexis off the floor. Swinging it over his head, the intruder parried his attacks one by one. The rage inside him grew, taking over the fear, and soon he was throwing everything at the intruder, attempting to slice him into pieces.  
Finally, the intruder screamed in agony, and fell, dropping his sword to clutch his shoulder wound. Grinning, Splaise stood over the man, who looked up in horror and regret.  
"This is where it ends!" he screamed, and brought his sword down upon him-  
-only to feel the pressure of metal being pushed through his chest. His eyes widened in shock and disbelief. The intruder was still clutching his wound, but his sword was gone.  
"I had fun, I really did," whispered the voice of the scientist he had captured. "Oh, and I did vow to get you back for slapping me."  
At that, she drove the sword further into his chest, and he fell to the floor.  
"Heiadross...." he muttered, and all went into darkness.


	13. Change of Course

Bruce blinked. Alyssa stood above him, pointing the blade at his throat. She grinned in cruelty, and Bruce understood that this was the end for him.  
"Any last words before I make my move?" she asked mockingly.  
"Yeah," Bruce replied. "Got to Hell."  
"Already there, fool," she laughed.  
Poising to strike, she stared into his eyes, piercing inside and making him feel uncomfortable. She was about to strike-  
-When a groan caught her attention. He turned around, worrying to see a zombie stumble through the doors. However, he sighed as he saw it was the man he had knocked out earlier. The man who had attacked him when he had entered the room. The only surviving cultist other than the one outside.  
Alyssa looked at both of them, and smirked. "Well, I need not bother. I'll just leave this sword for your friend here and watch him gut you alive." She threw the sword to the cultist, and stepped back. "He is all yours, cultist!"  
The cultist stood up, and retrieved his sword from the ground. He glanced at Alyssa, then at Bruce. He eyed Bruce nastily, obviously thinking of the ways to torture him. Bruce crawled away from him slowly. There was no way he could get away from this guy easily. He had the sword, and Bruce was left unarmed.  
"Bruce!" A deep voice called from behind, and suddenly explosions erupted through the cultist's torso. The man screamed as holes and blood appeared everywhere.  
Silence.  
As the explosions ended, the cultist fell dead, blood flowing all over the paved floor. Behind the body, stood a familiar figure with his shirt decorated with rips and a green substance which looked like blood.  
"Cal!" he shouted, hopes rising.  
Cal nodded, and pointed his gun at Alyssa. "Who were you expecting? The army?"  
Bruce chuckled, and stood up. He looked at Alyssa, who had her hands in the air. He looked to the chairs where Baker and Misty were, and ran to them. He picked up the Purger's sword, and cut the ropes restraining them with one swing. Misty stood up quickly, and ran to Bruce, hugging him on contact. He felt one of her silent tears drop onto his shoulder, and he smiled.  
"It is okay now," he whispered. "You're safe now."  
He let go of her, and she smiled, wiping her eyes dry. He turned to see Baker limp out of his seat, and smile at Bruce.  
"Well, where is my hug?" Baker grinned, and winced with pain, holding his leg.  
Bruce ran to him. "Are you okay?"  
Baker nodded. "Don't worry, just had one of the cultist swords scrape me there, hence the bloody part of my trouser leg."  
Bruce turned to Misty, and handed her the ropes off the floor. "Tie the scientist's hands behind her back. She is coming with us."  
Alyssa looked shocked at them, and Bruce thought he saw fear in her eyes. Good, if anyone deserved to be afraid right now, it was her. Now she was their prisoner.  
Misty bound her hands behind herback, and Cal moved closer to Bruce.  
"Are we ready to head out?" he asked Bruce.  
"Head where?" Bruce replied calmly. "We have nowhere to go, and I have no weapon."  
Misty turned to face them both. "Wait, the Mayor hasa copter on top of the Town Hall. If anyone here is an expert pilot, we can fly out of here."  
Alyssa laughed in amusement and doubt, but Bruce ignored her.  
"Well, I learnt how to pilot a copter a few years back when I was working for the government Armed Forces," Cal said, scratching his shaved head. "I could easily fly us out. We just need to get there."  
"Don't believe that it will be easy," Alyssa feigned disappointment. "After all, there is a surprise awakening in about ten seconds."  
Bruce glared at her. "What do you mean?"  
Alyssa looked up and smiled. "Well, when you succeeded my little hospital playground, I decided to wake up the Tyrant."  
At that, Baker dived at her and kicked her in the stomach. "Bitch! You stupid, crazy bitch! You are going to kill us all!"  
Bruce grabbed Baker, and pulled him away, stopping him from hurting her more. "What is it? What is a Tyrant?"  
Baker looked at Bruce, and he saw the fear and dread in the reporter's face. "It is walking death, Bruce. Walking death."

Things were getting stranger by the minute for Cal. He had been involved in the outbreak, and now he was on a mission to helping a group of unlikely survivors to escape the city. He didn't know what they were going to do precisely, but so far the plan sounded far-fetched. They were going to leave this place only armed with what they could find in the church (which had only been two hunting rifles with fifty bullets to share and a crowbar), go through the population of zombies to get into the Town Hall, find the keys to the copter and to the roof door and fly out of here. Also, they had to avoid the ultimate killing machine created by Umbrella's local Jekkyl and Hyde. It didn't sound well planned, but it was the only option with hope.  
He reloaded his SMG, and looked at the others. There was the guy he met, Bruce, who was armed with one of the rifles. Cal didn't doubt his chances of survival, but it was the others he doubted on. There was the girl, Misty, who was a nice kid, but Cal wondered whether it would be wise to arm the teenager with the other rifle. There was also Baker, the reporter with the wounded leg who was armed with the crowbar. He didn't look like a survivor, but according to Bruce he was the most experienced, surviving another incident in a city called Raccoon. Finally, there was the psycho scientist Alyssa, who had her hands bound and a pessimistic attitude over the situation.  
Overall, their situation looked bleak, but he was ready. If he was going to die, it was going to be fighting for a good cause.  
"You okay?" Misty approached him, placing her hand on his shoulder.  
"Sure, I am fine," he nodded. "How about you? Are you feeling better now?"  
She smiled. "I was never ill." She nodded as he smiled back. "I want to thank you for helping Bruce save me. I appreciate it."  
"No problem," he said, checking his SMG. "We got to stick together in this, we survivors. In a way, we are like family, bonded by the instinct to survive and look out for each other. It is at times like these people show their true colours, like Miss Psycho Bitch tied up over there."  
Misty nodded, no longer smiling. "There is only one problem with getting out of here."  
Cal blinked, and lowered his SMG. "What is that?"  
She looked up. "What do we do after? I mean, I have only been with company since four hours ago, but I don't want to separate. Like you said, we are a kind of family now."  
He grinned comfortingly. "Do not worry. I am not leaving anyone if they don't want me to. Anyway, now I know who did this, I am going to make sure the company falls to its knees."  
Smiling, Misty nodded, and walked away ot talk to Baker. Cal was about to carry on cleaning when Bruce appeared next to him.  
"You ready for this?" he asked.  
Cal nodded. "I was born ready for this."  
"When we get in, we will split up," Bruce said. "Misty and myself will search one side and you and Baker search the other side. We will meet up again on the rooftop, and we'll fly out of here."  
"You make it sound so easy," Cal sighed. "You know she is worried about what happens after this?"  
Bruce turned his head at Misty and back at him. "You mean Misty?"  
"No, Baker. Of course Misty," Cal replied. "She is afraid of being alone again after this is over."  
Bruce shook his head. "Well, Baker and I are going to expose Umbrella after this. Now I know what they are capable of, they need to be put down."  
Cal nodded. "Same here. Perhaps if we all make it out of this, we work together on it. I doubt Misty will refuse to join, she sees you as a close friend now."  
"True," Bruce agreed. "To be honest, I don't want to separate after this. Misty has been a really close friend, and so have you. Also, Baker is a friend who came here to expose Umbrella as revenge for Raccoon. I doubt that we will, but I do not want to full stop."  
Cal smiled. "Well, I'm not going anywhere."  
"Okay," Bruce smiled, making Cal feel more hopeful. "Let's do this!"


	14. Terrible Crowds at City Hall

Harv Baker stood in front of Cindy Marl, glaring at the insane Dr Greg Thompson. The doctor laughed, pressing a few buttons on a console. The man kept talking, his gun still pointed at the two of them. Baker felt a bead of sweat on his head, but did not wipe it. Cindy fidgeted impatiently, breathing deeply.  
Suddenly, Harv was thrown, and called for Cindy as she ran at the doctor, and screamed in horror as he heard a gunshot. Her blood hit his face, and she fell in shock, clutching her stomach wound. She started shaking, coughing up blood and trying to talk. Baker moved close and held her, tears flowing down his face like rivers.  
"Baker?"  
He shook his head, and looked into the face of Misty. He was back in Indigo. The nightmare of Raccoon City was over, replaced with Indigo City. The image of Cindy had always made him feel down, and his desire to watch Umbrella crumble grew from it.  
"Sorry," he sighed. "Past encounters with Umbrella alwayscome back to get you, you know?"  
Misty smiled, tapping his shoulder. "A few more steps, and we are almost at Town Hall. The nightmare will be over."  
He nodded, but did not reply. The Raccoon incident could not end for him, and neither would Indigo City. It was something a person just could not shove into the back of the mind and pretend it didn't happen. Not for him anyway.  
"Here it is, Town Hall!" Cal called from in front, but there was no hope in his tone.  
Next to Cal, the bound Alyssa chuckled mockingly. In front of her was Bruce, who shook his head in doubt, thinking about what to do.  
Baker looked at Bruce with concern. "What is it?"  
Before Bruce could answer, a thousand moans roared from the streets, answering his question. Moving quickly, Baker ran to look around the corner, and gasped to himself, reminded of Raccoon City once again.  
The Town Hall was situated in a big open ground, with grass all around it. In between them and the building were zombies. Hundreds of zombies. Everywhere he looked, there was an undead man or woman or child, ambling about aimlessly, scouting mindlessly for food. There were more bodies on the ground, most just bones with pieces of flesh flapping off them. Among the moving corpses was the burning wreckage of a military copter. He could not see far enough, but he noticed the charred body of the pilot.  
"The copter," Misty muttered.  
As Baker was about to curse, Cal shook his head. "Not the copter we are going for," he answered to everyone's relief. "The Mayor's copter is a carrier of people and supplies. It has no military affiliations whatsoever."  
Baker wiped his brow with relief, but only for that. Things still looked grim for them all.  
"We have no choice," Bruce muttered. "We have to go through them. If we stay here, more will come."  
"No," Misty objected. "It is suicide! There must be a way around. The building had a back door."  
Cal shook his head. "That door was caved in by rubble when the outbreak began. Blame citizens with Molotovs for that one."  
Alyssa chuckled. "Decisions, decisions."  
Getting angry, Misty grabbed Alyssa's bound hands, and started pushing her out, towards the zombies. Alyssa struggled, but it was futile. As Misty reached the end of the wall, Cal grabbed her.  
"Don't do it," he ordered. "It won't help us."  
"I'm fed up of her. She will kill us as soon as she gets the chance," she replied.  
Alyssa shook her head. "What chance have I got bound like this?"  
"Quiet!" Bruce snapped, and everyone looked at him. "We need to go through, whether we like it or not! We have weapons, so we have an advantage. All we do is stick together and run for the door. Then we can get out of this cesspit once and for all!"  
Baker smiled. It seemed Bruce was the official leader of the group, as the others looked away slowly, and nodded amongst each other.  
"So what are we waiting for?" Baker said, grinning and starting to feel foolish for it. "Let's get out of here!"

Bruce felt the moans upon him as he sped through the corpses, firing upon those who got too close. In the lead was Cal, who bashed the zombies with his shoulder, bowling the dead down effortlessly. Right behind Cal was Alyssa, who dodged the zombies who groped for her. Keeping guard on her was Misty, who was pointing the gun at Alyssa's head. Next to Bruce was Baker, using the crowbar to smash down on zombie heads.  
"We are almost there!" Cal cried from ahead, not stopping for a second.  
Bruce felt his heart leap. They were going to make it, and the plan worked out fine.  
Suddenly, he felt a hand on his left shoulder, and the hot breath on the back of his neck. Turning, he instantly smashed the rifle butt into its skull, watching the zombie fall backwards dead. Baker was out of sight. He looked ahead, and noticed Misty and the others were not there. He heard conflict around him, and calls for each other.  
They had been separated!  
Starting to lose control, he punched a zombie, and started calling.  
"Baker! Misty! Cal!"  
A call from Baker. "Bruce? Bruce, where are you?"  
Running towards the voice, Bruce shoved zombies aside, avoiding getting a bite from one. "I'm coming to you!"  
A few zombies shoved aside, and he found Baker. He was cornered at the burnt copter, swinging his crowbar and knocking back zombies. A few yards away, Bruce saw a staricase going down towards a door.  
"Come on, I found a way out!" Bruce ordered, and nodding, he obeyed.  
The two ran, fighting off the creatures, protecting each other from a gruesome fate. Soon, they reached the door and with tremendous speed, the both of them leapt inside and slammed the door shut.


	15. Inside

Alyssa winced as the rope burned her struggling hands. It had taken all her might to escape the fools and enter the City Hall through an open window. She could hear them call to each other, and could hear gunshots echoing through the frustrated moans of the hungry virus carriers.  
"They'll be dead," she muttered. "No way can they survive that."  
Finally, she felt her hands come away from each other, and heard the silent thud of rope upon the marble floor. She instinctively rubbed her bruised hands, and snarled to herself. If any of them survived, she was going to be ready for them. She didn't have a weapon, but she wasn't fussy. If it meant getting her hands messy, so be it.  
A moan entered her ear, and she felt the cold, salty breath of an undead man upon the back of her bare neck. Swiftly, she spun around and knocked the virus carrier back with her fist, her eye twitching as she heard her fist contact its exposed intestines.  
The carrier stumbled backwards, but kept its balance. Moaning, it shuffled towards her, its intestines now tangling itself on the dead man's leg. The sight and smell caused bile to rise up her throat, but she composed herself, ensuring that she kept everything inside.  
Without hesitation, she walked away from it backwards, unable to keep her eyes off of the virus host. The creature left a trail of blood behind it, the blood coagulated.  
Alyssa gulped, hoping to find a weapon around. Her eyes glanced across the room, trying to find a suitable item to crush the skull of the dead being. Suddenly, her eyes met the glint of a suit of armor, the light grey shell holding a sword in its metallic hand. Seizing the opportunity, Alyssa sped for it, feeling the eyes of the carrier follow her pathway. She pounced upon the sword, snatching it from the empty armor suit. The force of it caused the armor to topple, the clangs deafening as the armor pieces bounced and rolled across the now cracked marble.  
Ignoring the sound, Alyssa brought the sword down on the dead man's cranium, watching it split open like a watermelon. Blood trickled through the long slice down the corpse's head.  
Alyssa smiled. She was now ready for her old captives.

"Cal? Misty?"  
"Shut up, something might hear you!"  
Bruce ignored Baker's words, and studied the room they had entered. The room was some sort of study, as it contained bookshelves crammed with old looking books. The marble floor was green, and had a red carpet near an old, cozy fireplace. Near the fireplace were two leather chairs, and an old globe used to contain expensive wines. Further away from the chairs was a modern oak desk with papers showered upon it. The room must have been full of life before, but now it seemed cold and dead.  
Like its inhabiters, Bruce thought to himself.  
Baker approached the globe, and pulled out a bottle of Vinho do Porto, whistling as he read the label upon it.  
"1876," he smiled. "These guys sure knew how to get the good stuff, I can tell you."  
Bruce shook his head in amusement. Baker seemed to be able to see a bright side to many things, even zombie outbreaks. Whoever was with him in Raccoon, Bruce sympathised with them if he had the same attitude with them.  
"Harv?" he asked, killing off the eerie silence.  
Baker turned his head, smiling. "Nobody calls me Harv these days, Bruce. You know that." His smile disappeare as he noticed Bruce's serious expression.  
"Can I ask you something?"  
Baker nodded. "Shoot."  
"What is a Tyrant?"  
Bruce jolted with surprise as Baker let go of the bottle of Port and let it shatter across the clean floor. Baker's face was blank, as though the memories of Raccoon returned to him. Slowly, he moved to the leather chair and slumped himself into it, and looked at Bruce.  
"In Raccoon, I met this man, Dr Greg Thompson. He was an Umbrella scientist, like your little 'friend' that we bound." He sighed, and continued. "He was pretty much like the one we bound. When he revealed himself, he shot a girl I was with, Cindy. Before I could do anything, he hit a switch, and suddenly this door opened, revealing this tube. Inside that tube was the most frightening sight I had ever seen."  
"The Tyrant?" Bruce guessed, and frowned as Baker nodded.  
"It was around nine feet tall, with a hand of deadliness. There again, it was nothing like a hand. It was more like a club with spikes decorated on it." Baker shuddered, and continued. "Anyway, it broke through the tube glass, and skewered its creator through the chest. Then it came for me."  
Bruce walked closer to Baker. "How did you stop it?"  
Baker raised his head, and Bruce saw the man's eyes were filled with sorrow. "I threw everything I had at it; handgun bullets, shotgun shells, a fire axe, even a damned grenade, but it still came at me. It was as though it felt no pain, as though the hits it took were mere papercuts. Thing is, I didn't kill it. Another friend I made locked himself in a metal room with it, allowing me to escape. Before it could come for me, I was saved by Amber in the copter."  
The mention of Amber ached Bruce's chest, as though somebody pushed a sword through him. Before Bruce could say anything, Baker stood up.  
"Come on," he sighed. "The others have to be around here somewhere."  
At that, the two left the dark, quiet study, hoping they would never see the room again.


	16. Key Hunting

Cal sat at the bottom of the royal red staircase, his weapons propped against the bottom step. Things had ended badly. He had made it to the door, but the others had disappeared. He did not see any signs of life around him, just the body of a carrier he had just dispatched.  
The scene reminded him of his failure towards his wife, and how she, like many he had tried to help, perished under the hungry jaws of the zombies. He found it unfair, and wondered why he had bothered trying to survive. He was too old for this. He had been a veteran from Vietnam, and now he had to deal with the undead. It seemed his country needed him wherever he went, and he was fed up of it.  
He studied his TMP, and the dark glint of its barrel looked friendlier to him suddenly.  
There would be no shame, he thought to himself. There is no reason to live on. I lost my wife, my friends, my home; everything.  
Ceremoniously, he lifted the weapon, and studied it closely. He tried to think up a reason to avoid it, to live on, but he could not see one. His family was dead, his life basically ruined, and he had failed the only survivors left. That was failure, and his Vietnam Captain had punished failure with execution.  
"See you on the otherside, Maude," he sighed aloud to his wife, and raised the gun.  
"Cal?"  
At the sound of his name, he dropped the loaded weapon and turned his head. At first, he thought that the ghost of his wife had talked to him, but he excused such nonsense. Maude had not sounded anything like that when she was alive. The voice was young, and caring. It was angelic, and full of concern. As the figure appeared, he couldn't help a hopeful grin.  
It was Misty.  
"Oh thank God for that," he exclaimed, and stood up, examining the survivor. She had a bruise on her arm, and she had a bloody nose, but overall she was fine.  
Misty approached him slowly, and smiled back. "Don't worry," she smirked. "I'm not bitten."  
Cal felt relief flood him, and fought the temptation to hug her. Things seemed to be looking up.  
"Did you find anything useful around here?" he asked, and felt himself grin furiously as she nodded.  
"I found a weapon that you could handle, but I need your help to smash it open and retrieve it."  
Cal raised an eyebrow. "What sort of weapon?"  
Misty smiled. "The sort of weapon which could blow up that Tyrant thing that is supposedly going to get us."  
Cal fought the urge to bellow with joy at those words. "A rocket launcher?"  
Misty shook her head, but still wore her smile. "Not exactly. More like a grenade launcher."  
"Where is it?" Cal asked, suddenly enjoying having an objective to do.  
Misty pointed. "It is down this corridor and through the last door. It needs something strong to hit the glass. I tried using the rifle, but I can't break it."  
At that, Cal sped down the hall, ignoring the squeaks of his shoes upon the marble. Deep inside he knew running mindlessly could lead him to getting killed, but the excitement of this beacon of hope appearing was too much to lose.  
Reaching the door, he turned the handle slowly, remembering that anything could attack. After all, he didn't want the excitement to kill him by running into a room where a Hunter could be lurking in.  
Raising his machete, he leapt into the room and saw-  
Nothing. No creatures, no zombies, no people. Just a glass cabinet in the room, containing-  
Cal gasped with delight as his eyes rested upon an M203 grenade launcher fitted onto an M16 assault rifle. The glint of it lured him towards the glass, hungering to use the weapon. He had seen a Vietnam buddy use one during the war, but both the man and the weapon were lost to the Vietnamese, or as many had called them, the 'Gooks'.  
"Misty," Cal breathed. "You just saved us a lot of trouble."

Bruce picked up the document belonging to the Mayor's secretary, and browsed through it, looking for the details on how to find the copter keys. Suddenly, an article caught his eye.  
'12th March. I have been working for Mayor Barry Wilkins for three months now, and already I have noticed that his paranoid obsession with escaping the city from an attack is controlling him. He has already set up a helicopter to transport him in such a dire moment, and to ensure nobody else tries to take the copter before him, he hid the keys. He hasn't told us anything, but I fell that I know where I can get them. Mayor Wilkins loves his weapons, and there are many glass cases. I have a feeling it will be in either the case containing the M1903 Springfield hunting rifle, the M203 grenade luancher case, or the case containing the pair of 9mm Lugers. I better not tell him my guesses, or he may think I am some sort of spy.'  
Bruce flicked through, hoping the next article would help him.  
'16 April. It seems Mayor Wilkins is becoming more paranoid. He keeps telling me to watch Umbrella's actions carefully, and to make sure that any deceiptful dealings should be reported ASAP. The Mayor is becoming a fool. Why would the corporation that built this city want to destroy it? The very idea is absurd. I remember when Umbrella's Dr Kurt Oldring came in, and the Mayor watched him suspiciously. I get a feeling that it wil be sooner rather than later that old Mayor Wilkins will get the boot. Good riddance too, I say. Too much spy novel rubbish in his head, and it is affecting the running of the city.'  
The third article after was not dated, but Bruce could see it was fairly recent, about two days ago.  
'I don't know how to say this, but Mayor Wilkins was right. Somehow, he knew that Umbrella was behind it. As soon as it had began, the entire city was destroyed. Seventeen of us had made it into the City Hall, but many officials did not make it. The Mayor disappeared with the Chief of police and some reporter. Now, as far as I know, I am the last one. One of the scientists made it into here, and admitted the whole thing. It only took four days before people were turning on each other. Five were killed on the second day of the outbreak, all by this Gulf War veteran. Whether the man, Sergeant Adam Gollems I think his name is, is alive now or not, I do not know. I still hear screams, but that could be because some zombies broke in. We blocked the hole, but there are still some wandering aimlessly.  
God help us!'  
Bruce dropped the papers on the desk carelessly. Not only did the Mayor hide a key in a guns case, but a Gulf War Sergeant was hunting down people for pure pleasure. This made the situation worse.  
Bruce looked upon the body next to the desk, and figured it was the secretary himself. Reading from his notes, the key was in one of three cases. Where the cases were, he did not know. All he knew was-  
"Hey Bruce, look what I have got!"  
Turning around, his eyes widened as Baker held two grey Lugers in his hands, the man casually waving them around like toys.  
Rushing up to Baker, Bruce clamped his hands on the man's shoulders. "Where did you find those?"  
Baker shrugged. "A smashed case over there." Baker pointed towards the open door leading to a small room with a case inside. The case glass was scattered across the red carpet of the empty room. "I figured they would come in handy if we do face the Tyrant. Perhaps we could slow it down."  
Bruce's eyes narrowed, and he glared into Baker's now intimidated face. "Baker, was there a key with them?"  
Baker shrugged again. "I don't know. I didn't look."  
Bruce tightened his grip, and ignored Baker's painful yelp. Suddenly feeling ashamed of himself, Bruce let go and lowered his head. "I'm sorry, Baker. It is just that the key could lead us to the helicopter. We really need that key."  
Baker nodded silently and rubbed his shoulders. "Okay. I'll go check for you."  
Bruce raised his head and held out his hand. "Baker, look, I'm sorry."  
Baker waved it off and smiled. "No need. If we are this close to escaping, you have a reason to crush my upper body."  
Blushing with embarrassment, Bruce smiled and turned away, hoping that the other two were okay.


	17. Enter the Tyrant

"That was rather stupid of you, Cal."  
Cal muttered a curse as Misty wrapped his cut palm using a piece of his shirt. "I know, but it wouldn't let me get it."  
Misty gave him a look which made him feel insane. "So you decided to go A Team on it and punch the glass?"  
He smiled as she looked back down on his cut. "Whatever needs to be done."  
Cal heard Misty silently chuckle, but pretended not to hear it. He wanted to give her some feeling of power over him, and to be honest, she was too kind to hurt.  
"Anyway, I got this," he gripped the weapon proudly, not hiding the grin that was labelled on his face.  
He winced as Misty tightened the bandage, and looked across the floor. He saw his blood droplets mixed with glass, and was hit by a sudden worry.  
"Misty, what are the chances these monsters can scent blood?"  
Misty raised her head again, and studied him with curiosity. "Probably high. Why do you ask?"  
Cal couldn't believe how oblivious she was to the obvious. "Well, I am cut, and there is blood coming from it. So I pretty much wonder if I am the next target."  
"Obviously!" a voice echoed through the door, and Cal gasped as he looked upon the figure.  
Alyssa!  
"Well, yet again the tables have turned against you," she cackled, pointing an M1903 Springfield rifle at them. "Yet again, I have the power over your lives."  
Misty stood up, looking disghusted, and Cal worried she might say the wrong thing. "We allowed you to live."  
Alyssa raised her head in laughter, amused by Misty's words. "That is because you are weak. You people struggle to kill others." She looked upon Cal, and suddenly he felt vulnerable. "Except for you. Your lack of hesitation to kill that cultist was indeed admirable." She treated Cal to a cruel smile, and Cal suddenly felt terrible. He was being admired by the bad guy, and that was a bad sign for him.  
"I did it to help Bruce," he replied solemnly. "I am not proud of what I have done, or what I did before."  
Alyssa suddenly stopped smiling, and looked angered. "Weak!" she cursed at him, pointing the rifle directly at his face. "That is why I cannot spare you! You are too weak to live!"  
Cal felt rage rush into his bloodstream, and unable to control himself pointed at her accusingly. "No, you are weak! You are the one who killed off your own friends. You are the one who released the outbreak, and I bet it was over jealousy."  
She fired a shot at him, narrowly missing his head. "Next time, I won't miss," she growled, and pointed it at Misty's chest. "Say goodbye to your little bitch friend!"  
As Alyssa's finger twitched closer to the trigger, Cal watched in horror as the tables turned for him yet again. It occured in an instant, but he saw it all in slow motion.  
Alyssa pulled the trigger. The bullet whizzed through the air, and connected with Misty. Misty let out a quick scream, and fell instantly. Blood trickled from her, and Cal felt tears come from his eyes. The salty liquid ran down his face, and he bent down to check on her. She wasn't breathing.  
"You bitch!" Cal screamed, and dived for the grenade launcher.  
Landing on his back, he retrieved the weapon, spun around, and fired. He watched the grenade fly towards the shocked Alyssa, and enjoyed her shocked cry.  
Suddenly, Alyssa disappeared, instead replaced by a grey, eight foot tall man, if he could call it that. The creature was muscular, making Cal look weedy. The creature's eyes were white and emotionless. Its left arm was normal, like a human's hand. However, its right arm made Cal feel weak all over. The arm was like a rocky club, with white, bone-like claws protruding from it. On its chest pumped a wet organ, which was its heart.  
The creature stumbled back as the grenade contacted it, the explosion only stunning it. Cal looked around, and saw the body of Alyssa laying further away. She was motionless, which meant she was dead. Happy to see that, Cal moved his eyes back onto the creature before him, knowing that this being was the Tyrant.  
Coughing sounds next to him. Cal swiftly turned his head, and instantly moved onto his knees as Misty lifted her head weakly.  
"Misty! Are you okay?" he rushed out of his mouth, feeling relieved but worried.  
Misty nodded. "It seems the bullet skimmed my shoulder and knocked me off balance."  
ROAR!  
The both of them swerved their heads towards the noise's source. It was the Tyrant, and he was plodding closer towards them, unaffected by the fact its left shoulder was torn up and leaking a dark grey substance.  
"Get down!" Cal bellowed, and fired at the creature, the gun aimed towards its head.  
As he pulled the trigger, he hit the floor, and covered hisears as the grenade made contact. Over the explosion, he heard another roar, and suddenly all was silent.  
Pushing himself to his feet, Cal looked upon the Tyrant's body, and let out a horrified gasp. The body still had a head. It lay motionless, but not headless.  
A shuffling noise caught his attention, and he saw Misty slowly pull herself to her knees.  
"Is it dead?" she asked curiously.  
Cal shook his head. "I doubt it. If it can still keep its head, it is alive."  
At that, he helped Misty to her feet, and supported her as she walked. Before they could carry on down the corridor, Misty spoke.  
"Wait, I noticed something about Alyssa."  
Cal raised an eyebrow jokingly. "What, she is a dead bitch?"  
"No. There was a glint in her hand. I think she has the key!"  
Looking back at Alyssa, he hobbled towards it, preventing Misty from falling over. Glancing at Alyssa's hand, he noticed a small item with a red tag on it.  
The key!  
"Well, aren't you observant," Cal grinned, and couldn't help a chuckle as Misty blushed.  
Plucking the key from the dead woman's hand, Cal turned back and helped Misty ascend to the top floor.

As the echo of footsteps became quieter, Alyssa pushed her face off of the floor, wiping blood from her bleeding mouth. She looked around slowly, trying to ease the pain in her throbbing head. Her entire body ached as she pushed herself into a sitting position next to the wall. Using her own medical knowledge, she examined herself and sighed in disappointment. She had two broken ribs, her right arm was dislocated and her leg was bruised. Her vision was also blurry due to the hit of the Tyrant.  
It had been so instant for her. Before the grenade could hit her, she had felt a strong body smash her out of the way.  
She coughed violently, and noticed droplets of blood fall from her mouth and upon her lap.  
It was obvious she was dying. Her breathing was irregular, and it pained her to move even the slightest.  
"At least the other two died," she said soothingly to herself, and looked in the direction of the case room.  
No bodies. All three were gone; the girl, the man and the Tyrant.  
"Impossible," she snarled, feeling more blood dribble down her chin. "I shot the girl, and the Tyrant must have killed the man." She pushed herself up onto her feet, unable to refrain screaming in agony. "Looks like I have to see they stay dead."  
Alyssa hobbled, leaning against the wall for support. Her eyes met upon the rifle she had found, and instinctively she picked it up, using it as a temporary crutch.  
She wasn't going to die alone, she would ensure that. The others were going to die before her, and she was determined to see it through.  
Suddenly, a door ahead of her opened, and she raised the rifle at the sight of the two men appearing before her. The men stopped dead in their tracks, eying her with curiosity and unexplained concern. She remembered them easily. They were the other two, Bruce and the other reporter.  
"Time to-"  
As the first two words came out, Alyssa felt all her energy drain from her, the words using up all that remained inside of her. Her body let go of the rifle, despite her mind telling her to do otherwise. The thud of the gun hitting the floor was deafening for her, but she could not cover her ears from it. She swayed slightly, and suddenly she was falling, the marble floor spelling her untimely demise.  
As she hit the floor, she cursed the survivors in her mind, and let the darkness take her.


	18. Escape!

"She's dead," Bruce told Baker as he checked her pulse.  
As he looked upon Alyssa's body, he felt a mix of worry and regret. He was worried, as whatever did this to her was big, and wasn't hunting for food, but for the sake of hunting. He considered the Tyrant idea at first, but dismissed it after he remembered how Baker had described it. His second idea was that the Gulf War veteran got to her, but if that was so she would have been dead instantly. The final idea was that Cal and Misty were attacked by her, and beat her into a dying state. The idea seemed more probable, but he doubted that Misty could have done this, and Cal seemed to finish off his opponents quickly and painlessly.  
"What do you think did this, Baker?"  
Baker moved his gaze from the body to Bruce. "Perhaps she ran into this veteran you keep talking about and barely escaped alive."  
Bruce shook hishead. "No, this veteran guy killed instantly, according to the secretary's notes. This was done by a new player."  
Baker sighed, and approached the staircase to their left. "Look, we can't worry about this. The helicopter is on the roof, and-"  
Two gunshots echoed from the top of the staircase. Bruce made eye contact with Baker, and the two hurried up the stairs. Bruce hoped it wasn't the veteran. If it was, they were going to be next on his list.  
As they reached the staircase, Bruce looked at the gun pointed at his head.  
"Wait, Cal!" Misty's voice.  
Instantly, Cal lowered the weapon, and the man gripped Bruce in a bear hug.  
"Man, I am glad it was you two!" Cal laughed with delight.  
Bruce smiled at Cal, then looked at Misty. She was wounded, but she looked fine. She was leaning against the wall, smiling at him and Baker.  
As Cal greeted Baker with a bear hug, Bruce ran to the wounded Misty, worried if he would find a bite wound.  
"Don't worry," she smiled. "Just a bullet wound. Nothing big."  
"How on earth did you get a bullet wound?" Baker said instantly.  
"From a gun," Misty replied with a smirk.  
Bruce did not smile, instead he checked the wound. "It seems the bullet scraped you."  
Misty nodded, but did not reply with words. They were silent for a few minutes, and Bruce looked at each one of them, taking in their faces to remember who his friends were.  
"Okay," Bruce breathed, killing the white noise around them. "Did you find the key?"  
Cal approached him and wiggled the silver key in front of him. "Got it right here. All we need to do is open this door that leads to the roof."  
"Blast it open?" Baker suggested, only to receive negative reply.  
"The door is made to take bullets and explosions," Cal replied. "I know, as my brother-in-law helped make it."  
Baker cursed. "Okay, how about a lockpick?"  
"Can you pick locks?"  
"No."  
"Well there is your answer."  
Baker kicked the wall angrily. "Okay, does anyone have the key for it?"  
Suddenly the solution clicked in Bruce's mind. "Use that key to open the door."  
Cal studied Bruce oddly. "Bruce, the lock has a bigger keyhole than this key. It won't work."  
"Just try it," Bruce answered calmly.  
Cal looked at the others, and reluctantly nodded. Slowly, he pushed the key into the keyhole, and leapt back as the door swung open. Bruce smiled as the three started cheering and laughing.  
"Bruce, you genius!" Baker exclaimed, slapping him hard on the back. "How did you figure it out?"  
Bruce shrugged. "Luck."  
Still laughing and cheering amongst each other, they ran to the helicopter, its presence giving them all a happy warm feeling inside. Bruce felt alive again, and loved the optimistic sounds of the others. As Cal opened the backdoor to the copter, a roar echoed from the streets.  
"Oh no!" Cal muttered.  
Bruce looked around him, wondering what the noise was. As he looked upon the others, he started feeling bad again. Each one looked hopeless, as though their chances had hit zero.  
"Get in now!" Cal bellowed.  
Not needing to be told twice, Bruce ran for the copter, the others already ahead of him. Baker helped Misty inside, and Cal clambered in the pilot seat desperately. Catching up, Bruce watched as Cal slammed the door, and Baker called to him.  
Suddenly, the sight of the helicopter was blocked. It was replaced by a leviathon of a creature, its body grey and muscular. Its head was blackened, and its eyes were blood red. It looked as though it was hit in the face with something powerful. Its right arm was deadly, a rocky clud armed with spikes. The creature glared at Bruce, and roared at him.  
Stumbling backwards, Bruce looked upon it, and knew that he was doomed.


	19. Final Showdown

"NO! KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF OF HIM!!!"  
The Tyrant turned its head as it felt its back being littered with the metal pellets. The humans were trying to best it, but it knew who was the better creature. It had been created to be the ultimate fighter, and its main priority was to destroy the witnesses that were against those who made it.  
The human firing upon it was male, and the oldest. The man was armed with a tool, which had been used to shoot the exploding rocks. Now it shot out mere pellets. They entered the Tyrant's skin, but it didn't feel the pain. There was no real pain, and it wondered why the humans continued to display such futile attempts to survive. Deciding the human with the tool was the biggest threat, the Tyrant moved closer, the scent of the human's fear so easy to find. It kept firing the pellets at him, screaming at it as though the sound would break it.  
The Tyrant could not be broken. It kept moving, keeping its pace slow. It didn't need to run, as the prey weren't going anywhere. It had ensured that when it separated the humans from their friend.  
The human fired the rocks at the Tyrant again, and it felt the vibrations of the explosives hit it. Soon, it was upon the human, and with one swipe of its left arm, the man flew backwards, hitting the side of the helicopter. The man did not move. It was dead.  
"NOOOOOO!!!!"  
Turning to face its left, the Tyrant saw the injured female human, her face horrified and hurt. Her suffering fuelled the Tyrant to want to end it, the creature suddenly feeling the need to want.  
It did not understand why it needed to kill, but it followed what it felt, and the need to kill was what it felt.  
It approached the female human, its right arm raised, ready to skewer her as soon as it got close enough.  
"Misty, get down!!"  
It was the human male the Tyrant had separated. It was now using the same tool that the dead man had, and he was aiming it at the Tyrantr.  
Eager to kill the human, the Tyrant moved towards him, also feeling confused about what target it would prefer.  
"Okay, you freak!" the human screamed at it. "Say cheese!"  
At that, the human fired at the Tyrant's legs, and before it could roar, it stumbled back and fell off the edge of the roof. As it landed, it roared in rage, and felt its body giving up on it.  
As its energy dripped away, it felt the many hands and jaws of the dead humans feast upon it, ending its existence altogether.

Bruce fell to his knees next to the injured Cal. Cal looked up and grinned at him.  
"Nice work, there. Could work on the one liners. but it is a start," Cal said as he got back onto his feet.  
Bruce chuckled, and helped him into the pilot's seat. "Are you sure you don't want to rest? You were hit quite hard."  
Cal shook his head. "I was in 'Nam. I don't need rest."  
Chuckling, Bruce ran over to where Misty stood. She looked down on the city, and at the hundreds pounding at the city hall doors.  
"I can't believe it's all gone," she sighed, and Bruce noticed a glint of tear in her eye. "So many people have died; dad, my brother, Arzt, Mayor Wilkins, the Purger. I don't know how I am going to cope after this."  
Bruce placed a hand on her shoulder, and gave her an encouraging smile. "You'll do fine. Anyway, you won't be alone."  
Misty looked at him, and she hugged him. "Thanks."  
Bruce smiled, and suddenly blushed as he noticed Baker standing behind them, a sheepish grin on his face.  
"So," Baker asked. "Are we ready to head?"  
Misty looked at Bruce, then at Baker.  
"Sure," she said, making Bruce feel proud of her.  
As the three climbed into their transport out of hell, Bruce looked out of the window. He heard the thunder of the copter blades spin, and as they took off, his mind saw the image of his parents.  
Finally, his old nightmares were put to rest, but now he had another family to take care of.  
"Umbrella," he muttered to himself. "You're going down!"


End file.
